The Erasmus
by STeeelle3
Summary: In relation to her studies, Anastasia Steele, a 20-year-old Belgian, is going to the USA during 6 months. But what was supposed to be an unforgettable adventure became much more than that, and the mysterious Christian Grey has got something to do with it... ** AU ** slightly OOC ** Rated M for lemon, language and violence.
1. Holy Ground

**I FOUND A BETA! :D Thank you very much KBelle1 ! (chapter 2 still need to be corrected)**

**Hello everyone! :) Before you start reading my story, I wanted to apologize for all the mistakes I surely made. Like Ana, I'm Belgian and my mother tongue is French. My brain and my dictionary did their best; I hope it isn't too bad. If I make a recurrent mistake that annoys you, please tell me, I'll be glad to improve my English skills (which is partly why I decided to write a story)! Thanks for reading, enjoy! :D xx**  
><strong>Characters belong to E. L. James.<br>ALL ANA P.O.V. ;)**

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><p><span>Chapter 1 – Holy Ground<span>

« ...les éclaircies se feront plus rares dans l'après-midi, et nous terminerons la journée avec un orage dans le Sud du pays. Les températures oscilleront entr… »  
>I switched off the radio in a snap. What time is it? 4 am. Finally. It seems like I've been waiting for that moment for the entire night. Actually, I've been waiting for that moment for 20 years, 7 months and 29 days. We're on August 29th, and in a few hours, I'm taking the plane to the Newark Liberty International Airport. Neither to visit New-York (even if I would love to, by the way) nor to go on a city-trip anywhere else, but because I'm doing my Erasmus in Princeton.<br>I don't look excited, but it is because I can't believe it. And it's not just me feeling strange, because nobody could believe it. It is just unbelievable. I've always dreamt of living in the USA, but wanted to graduate first. Therefore, 6 months ago, when I was told that I was going to the Princeton University in New Jersey, I almost had a heart attack. It was my first choice of course (I mean the US, I didn't dare to ask for an Ivy League college!), but the competition between students was no way a one-horse race, and my notes could've been better in the beginning of the year. I wasn't the best; in fact I was doing quite badly because it seemed that both Mr. Optimism and Mr. Courage had left me. I wasn't really me anymore; the "me" that was smart but also always happy, smiling and motivated. I don't know why. Maybe I just needed some change. Anyway, I was sure not to obtain it. **That** agreement.  
>Well, I was wrong. As you guess, the end of the year went perfectly and I'm now about to leave my little rainy Belgium to live (the first chapter of) my American Dream. Crazy! I know it's just 6 months but… crazy! The USA! Where everything is bigger! <em>Grrr…Can't wait to see!<em> Hm, why do I feel like you're **not** thinking about the same thing as me?! Keep your comments to yourself, thank you.

Before getting up, I started to repeat the list of the things I needed to take with me. So: skirts, shoes, make-up, sunscreen, glas…

"ANAAA, it's time!" my mother interrupted my thoughts.

She was screaming as if it was the apocalypse. As if she didn't know that I'm not the kind of girl who struggles to wake up and as if she didn't know that it's 4am, which means that my brother, my father and our neighbors are still sleeping. Well, maybe not anymore.  
>I jumped out of my bed to open the door and ask her to 'yell silently'. I picked up my blue dressing gown and went down the stairs. I found her running from the kitchen to the living room to stick an amount of linen in… my ripped-open suitcase. <em>Shit!<em>

"Mom, what did you do?" I almost shouted. "I've been preparing my stuffs for the past 4 weeks! The bag was ready! Why did you open it?"

"I wanted to be sure that you had everything. And I brought you some clean sweatshirts and dresses. Did you take some medication? And shoes? And your computer too? I didn't see it. Oh and did you think about the sunscreen? "

"Yeeees" I sighed in exasperation.

"Well because you know you burn easil.."

"Yes I do, and better than you." I cut her.  
>My skin was so pale that it was impossible for me to get a tan, while she just needed 3 minutes of sun to have a radiant and tanned complexion. <em>Unfair<em>.

"So please now let me check everything and stop asking hundred questions."

"I'm sorry. I can't help it." she looked at me and I could see stress and apprehension in her ocean blue eyes.

"I know mom. Don't worry and have a seat in the kitchen, I'll be there in a few seconds." I smiled at her and she left slowly.

That's her. I know she's over-stressed for my Erasmus. In fact, she **always** is. She doesn't want me to go but I have to. I need some new air, I'm suffocating here. Furthermore, it's my dream, and she knows it. That's why she finally accepted I guess.  
>I was bending another t-shirt when I recognized the familiar caffeine smell and decided to join my mother. She looked pensive, watching her cup without seeing it. I sat next to her and tried to reassure her.<p>

"I'll be fine, mom. You know it's what I want and have always wanted. I'm really excited, why can't you be for me? Don't forget there's Skype and Facebook. I will text you too. And it's only 6 months. I'll come back!"

She looked at me as if I had just said our dog was dead. And she looooves our dog.

"**Only** 6 months? It's an eternity! When you'll be a mother you'll understand." she stopped to watch her cup again and sniffed.  
>I knew she was about to cry. She so sensitive. I suddenly wanted to hug her tightly but she looked up at me and resumed talking.<p>

"But I know you'll be fine, honey." She smiled –or at least tried. "I'm so proud of you. You're a beautiful and fearless woman, you've always done everything possible to make your dreams come true, and always succeeded. You deserve it so much. I hope you'll think about me during these 6 months, and don't hesitate to call if you have anything to ask, need support or want help. Your father, your brother and I will always be there, never forget it."

"I know mom, thank you."

There was no doubt. I knew I could count on them more than anybody else. I wrapped my arms around her and put my head down on her shoulders.

"I'll miss you."

We stayed like that for a while. After a few minutes, I gently pushed her away in order not to cry with her and stood up to take some cold milk in the fridge. My brother, Thibault, and my father, Ray, showed up in the kitchen while I was rinsing out my mug.

"Hi dad!" I said joyfully.

I know he's happy for me, and his travel-addiction helps him to let me go without drama.

"Hello Ana!" he answered, smiling. "Ready for **the** adventure? It's gonna be awesome!"

"Yes, I couldn't be readier! I'm so excited!" I replied, unable to hide my happiness, even if I knew my mother would believe that I didn't care about being far away from home. She unintentionally makes me feel guilty, and I hate it.

"Hey little sis'" Thibault hugged me and released me when I was about to die by air lack.  
><em>Note to myself: breathe enough before greeting him<em>. We've always been very close and we don't need to speak to understand the other. He's three years older than me and has the same eyes than our mother, but dark brown hair like mine. Actually he's really beautiful, and I've seen him enough times with females to affirm that he knows it too well. Honestly, I think he has had at least 25 girlfriends these past 3 years. That's unbelievable, especially for me who dated only 2 guys in my entire life. _Maybe it's time to worry, don't you think?_ No, I don't mind. _Liar…_. Okay, maybe I wonder what's wrong with me, but that's all. Mental conversation OFF.

"Okay, I still have a few things to check and then we can leave. Is 5.30 fine?" I asked.

"Sure" my parents and my brother answered in unison.

I rolled my eyes with a smile as I was leaving the kitchen. I knew mom had asked them to do whatever I wanted for my last week here. Tttt, she won't change.

I got dressed quickly and once I entered my bedroom, a huge hole took place in my stomach. On all pictures of him, my horse seemed to look at me as if I was abandoning him. _You are_. Thank you for making me feel even worse! Stop it! I went to the stables every day this week to give him carrots and try to explain to him that I would come back soon. He's my best friend, and probably the living being I'll miss the most… Get me right, I have friends but… _No, you don't_. Yes, I do! Shut. Up. So yes, I mean, I really do have friends but not a lot. I almost lost them all when the whole family had to move to Paris because of my dad's job. We stayed in the City of Lights during 6 years, from my 12th to my 18th birthday. I also lost those French friends when I came back to Belgium to go to the University of Brussels.  
>Sometimes I wish I were still in touch with them, wish we still communicated, like real friends do. Obviously, it was either A) fake friends or B) I have difficulty to deal with humans. A might be true but B is <strong>definitely<strong> true. I've always been lousy at social relations. If my classmates don't know why we need a course only dedicated to Human Resources Management, I sure do. However, I like analyzing people's behavior and reactions, it's so… fascinating. Even so it's not less complicated.

I skimmed my favorite poster, trying to feel closer to my sweet horse. He's magnificent with his abundant jet-black mane and his Spanish origins make him so elegant. Yes, I will awfully miss him.  
>I watched through my large window a last time and realized that I would also miss those endless fields and this peaceful nature. I could almost smell the fresh grass scent and hear the sparrow's song. Maybe it's just because I'm about to leave and because there is that annoying "Universal Frustration Rule" but the view was breathtaking, all the more under that colorful breaking dawn. "<em>Je reviendrai…<em>" I murmured to myself before going back downstairs.

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><p>"What goes around the world but stays in a corner?" asked Thibault. "A stamp!" and he began to guffaw.<p>

My ascending stress didn't allow me to laugh, so I gave him a poor smile. I knew he was trying to slacken the atmosphere, but our mother was so anxious that she probably didn't hear his riddle, and our father was concentrated on the road. After a last attempt, my brother finally gave up and the one-hour drive to Brussels Airport went in silence.

We arrived around 6.30 under a rising sun. It was already 20°c, which is incredible so early in Belgium. Yes, even in August. Is the global warming also **that** undeniable in America?

After my dad had parked the car, I took my enormous suitcase and we headed for the imposing grey building.  
>I first went to the wicket to have my luggage checked in, and then we sat at one of the 2 Starbucks inside the airport to breakfast with delicious chocolate rolls and a Caramel Macchiato.<p>

"Enjoy your meal Ana, because I don't know when you will eat something as good as this for the next 6 months!" Thibault said with a fake over-sad expression.

"What, you mean Starbucks? Because that's exactly what I'll find there." I laughed. "Belgium has only 10 while only New-York City has 256!"

He looked at me with that 'okay, fair point' face.

"But I know what you meant, and I will sure miss mom's food. Anyway, don't worry 'cause I think I took enough European supplies to survive during my entire life!"  
>Indeed, my grandma gave me lots of home-made speculoos and honestly, I think I have at least 1kg of Belgian chocolate. Better the devil you know than the devil you don't know, right?<p>

"Okay, if everyone is finished now, we should slowly go to the duty-free area. Your flight is in one hour, Ana." my dad said.

My mother was quiet since we had arrived, lost in her thoughts. It hurts me to see her like that, but I can't let her ruin my last day here.  
>Once we arrived in front of the aforementioned area, it was time for goodbyes. I hate it. Even though I know I'm leaving to live my dream, it's still difficult.<br>I was first hugged-to-die by my brother… again. Two times in a day, that's a record.

"I'll miss you little sis'" he told me. "And don't ever let a boy own your heart, because…?" he asked, expecting me to complete his sentence.

"They're all jerks except you." I finished naturally as if it was the only and obvious answer.

And actually, it was… between us. Thibault had been asking me this question since I was 13 to make sure I would never forget. Certainly to laugh in the beginning, but as the years go by, he looks always more serious each time he says it. It feels like he's not laughing at all anymore. He tries to protect me, and I'm glad he does but first, I'm 20 now and second, I think he should review his behavior in order to justify the 'except you'.  
>I know we should have a conversation one day, but not today. Anyway, it became our motto, our routine when I'm about to go on a date, to go to a party, to go back to Brussels for the week, etc. Yeah, it's almost a daily routine.<p>

"Good girl!" he gave me his ultra-bright smile and raised his right hand to give me five. Our hands clapped and I smiled knowingly in return.

"Enjoy your Erasmus Ana, take thousands of pictures and don't hesitate to contact us if needed." my father said before hugging me in turn.  
>It was short and brief but I could see emotion in his eyes. He never speaks a lot, but I know he means every word.<p>

"Count on me dad! You'll be bombarded with photos and SMS."

"Well, since you will probably send thousands of SMS per hour to your mom, there's no need to text me a lot. Just tell me when you're safe and sound on the American ground."

"All right" I nodded as he reached my ear.

"And don't worry for your mom, she'll be fine." he murmured with a wink.

My mother then came to me, tears streaming down her face. She kissed me on the cheeks before cupping my face with her two hands.

"I'm sorry to cry, I can't help myself. I hope you'll have a great trip, I'm sure everyone will love you. Take care of yourself and study well. I love you my baby."

"I love you too, mom."

She hugged me during what seemed to be an eternity. When she let me go, I sent them flying kisses and went to the entrance where my passport and ticket had to be checked. Once done, I looked back at them a last time. They were waving me and smiling, even mom.

"Oh and Ana," screamed Thibault "tell me what kind of wood you want for your coffin because statistically, your plane has a high chance of crash."  
>He had a laughter when mom hit his arm.<p>

"Holm oak please, and don't forget to think about yours too, because you can't live without me!" I answered with a mischievous smile as he childishly put out his tongue at me.

I finally turned back and confidently headed for the boarding gates.

As soon as I was seated, I decided to explore the different options proposed by the little personal screen in front of me. Rather than a movie, although there was a large bunch of great ones, I opted for the country music playlist.  
>I. Love. Country. Music. It inevitably makes me happy when I hear those girls-beer-party-trucks songs; maybe because it's bond to the USA. Nobody understands me in Belgium because the culture is different, and consequently it never goes on air. So how did I discover it? Thanks to Taylor Swift, who is, by the way, my favorite singer. She's the only one whose songs are sometimes broadcasted here. No Luke Bryan, no Keith Urban, no Tim McGraw, no Carrie Underwood, no Blake Shelton. So sad. Hopefully I'll find people like me in Princeton. At least, it should be less hard than in Europe.<p>

I put my headphones and the playlist, which I put on shuttle mode, began with "Platinum" from Miranda Lambert. I sat comfortably and watched through the porthole. The sky became as blue as possible as we were flying over the clouds. As the minutes went by, these got whiter. _Ah! Belgium and its rain, a love story._

After more or less two hours, I felt my neighbor's head fall on my left shoulder. I immobilized myself, afraid to wake her, but she just deeply sighed and continued to sleep. She was sleeping since the plane had taken off, and it wasn't a bad thing because she seemed very grumpy and pretentious when we 'met'. Actually, she didn't even say a word, but something told me not to bother her.

We stayed at least an hour like that. Pff, impossible to sleep without moving. Fortunately, when the position had just begun to tire my muscles, the air hostesses arrived with the lunch, which made her wake up.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" she exclaimed, realizing she had used me as pillow. "You should've pushed me away! I hope I didn't prevent you from sleeping…" she added with a confused look and what seemed to be an American accent.

"No no, that's fine" I lied. "I couldn't sleep anyway." I smiled shyly.

"Aaaaaaw your accent! Do you speak French?" she asked, now totally awake.

"Yes" I answered, half-amused by her excitation and half-forlorn by my vain attempt to hide my accent. "I come from Belgium."

"So great! Can you teach me some words? Oh but wait, I haven't even asked your name! Hi, my name is Kate Kavanagh." She introduced herself with a large smile.

Once again, it seemed like my intuition was wrong. _It's time to stop being so negative towards strangers._

"Hi, my name is Anastasia Steele, but you can call me Ana."

"Nice to meet you Ana!" she leaned over the armrest to hug me.

Okay, she's definitely American. I know they don't kiss to greet people, but I thought a handshake was the appropriate gesture for someone you haven't known for more than a minute. Maybe we're too young for that, and I totally agree. That's one of the many things I like about Americans: they all seem so friendly.  
>I relaxed and gave her back her embrace. She was really slim with straight platinum blond hair. Exactly the type of girl my brother would have loved -and every other hetero man too! She could easily be a top model or an actress and who knows, perhaps she is.<p>

"Same here!" I answered. "And you, where do you come from? What were you doing in Belgium?"

Yes because I've always wondered what could attract tourists to our little country. It's not that I don't like it, it's just that there's absolutely nothing to see, and the weather is unpredictable.

"Oh I just stayed one night. I come from Boston in Massachusetts. In fact, I came to Europe two weeks ago for a fashion parade in Milan and then I decided to visit a bit. I went to Paris, Berlin, Cannes and afterwards to Brussels. I arrived yesterday so I had time to discover a few beautiful places, like the Grand Place or the Atomium, which is very weird!" she laughed. "And your waffles! They're delicious!"

"Yes, it's true! I'm glad you enjoyed our little country."

"I can't wait to come back! The next time, you have to show me everything!" she said with enthusiasm.

The lunch arrived and we had to choose between chicken and beef. Not sure it was well cooked, I didn't choose the chicken. Kate declined the proposition and drank some vitamin-enriched water. She is probably vegetarian. Or has to follow a strict diet for her job. Or both. It made me feel guilty, but I was too hungry not to eat.

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><p><em>"We successfully landed in Newark :) Let's go! I love you 3 xoxo"<em> I texted my parents while I was waiting for my luggage.

It's only when Kate had taken hers and was gone that I realized I haven't even asked her why she was going to Newark since she is living in Boston. We had spent the rest of the flight small talking but I forgot to ask. _Never mind, it's not like it was the first friendship you missed_. Oh please, let me in peace.  
>Once I had my suitcase back, I headed for the exit, not without being first examined from head to feet by the security guys. Do I really look like a terrorist? I knew everyone had to undergo that entire fingers-and-eyes thing but it took an eternity.<br>When it was finally over, I found my way out of the building and was smacked by the heat. _Oh mon Dieu_. It was almost hard to breathe and I instantly began to sweat. It answered my previous question: yes, climate changes everywhere.  
>I took a minute to analyze the surrealistic landscape. The azure sky was delimited by the dense pollution cloud which was wrapping Manhattan. Fortunately, the sun shining permitted me to easily distinguish some of the highest NYC towers such as the Chrysler, the Empire State or the Rockefeller. A wave of excitement overwhelmed me. Here I am, holy ground!<p>

"Ana, welcome to the USA!"


	2. Begin Again

**Hello guys! A promise is a promise: here's the second chapter. I hope you will appreciate it despite the mistakes (tenses! Aaaargh). Don't worry, they will become longer. Thank you sooooo much for you reviews, you are awesome :) (it is so weird to be on the other side of the screen!)  
>To those who don't have an account:<br>- Rauguste: Thank you! I hope my Belgian Ana won't disappoint you ^^  
>- Guest: here's your update :D (the real one!)<br>Enjoy! xx  
>Characters belong to E L James (or Snowqueen's Icedragon for those who knew her here ;) )<strong>**  
><strong>

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><p><span>Chapter 2 – Begin Again<span>

After I had spent the latest hour confined with too much people (why the hell was everyone coming at the same time as me?!) in an old smelly little shuttle bus, whose air conditioning system was non-functional, I eventually found myself in front of the campus.

In fact, I think I **am** on campus, but the term 'town' would better describe it. We had been driving through it for at least five minutes when we finally stopped next to an impressive edifice. It was composed by a large entrance door overhung by a majestic arch, and surrounded on each side by a tower.  
>We all looked around; eyes wide open as if we were children brought to Disneyland for the first time. I however made a point to keep my mouth closed.<br>Buildings of different types circled us: some were quite modern, but most of them had a Collegiate Gothic or Romanesque style. It was absolutely breathtaking. Not that I am a big fan of architecture or even care about, but it gave a certain charm to the place. The atmosphere made me think of Hogwarts, which was… awkward.

We were taking our bags out of the minibus when I realized that the streets (yes, the campus is **really** huge) were crowded. I had naively thought that coming two weeks before the start of the academic year would spare me the back-to-school effervescence. Well, I was wrong. Parents and students were transporting pillows and fitted sheets, running between their open-trunk cars and halls. But it was so funny to watch and I felt so good, like I was a freshman again. _Which is not the case, though. It's your 4__th__ year and you still don't know what to do after_. If you're trying to spoil my day, you better try a little harder because I'm at a level of happiness and fullness that you could barely imagine.

When all bus passengers had their personal stuffs, a blond chubby-cheeked guy, probably around 40, came to us hopingly.

"Good morning everyone! I'm Connor Wayley, your guide!" he introduced himself. "We're gonna do a short tour of the residence halls in order to let you place your suitcases in your respective rooms, and right after, I'm gonna show you the main places of this beautiful campus. Considering that getting lost is as easy as failing your exams, I strongly recommend you to follow me… Ha ha, that was a joke!" he added, seeing that everybody was mute, looking at him with concerned faces.

Personally, I was not sure it was a joke... at all.

"Welcome to Princeton!"

The tension dissipated and everybody followed him, except me. They were going to the right, and I knew my bedroom was in Hamilton Hall. It was apparently situated in the North-West, what my map indicated as being the left. My suitcase was so heavy that I couldn't be bothered to carry it more than necessary. Moreover, I had never been a gregarious person. And furthermore, I could still visit the campus during the following days. And plus, I… Oh and shit! I don't have to justify myself. Not listening to Mr. He-Is-Not-The-Law Wayley doesn't make me a bad student, right? I turned back and silently left the group.

On my way to the housing hall, I noticed a same poster several times, fastened on trees as well as on billboards which ran along the sidewalk. It was a picture representing a ginger girl who had to be the same age as me. Her eyes were emerald green, her hair was curly, and freckles covered her face in a cute way. Maybe she was a bit younger. Actually, it could've been a great electoral poster if the question 'Have you seen that girl?' wasn't written in 72px bold characters right over the photo. I stopped by for a second, and then resumed to walk. What did happen to that girl? Is she a student? Probably. _Or was_. Stop with your negative thoughts! You've watched too many criminal TV shows, good heavens! She is not dead, she has just disappeared. A shiver ran through my body. I was trying to convince myself as much as I could, but I felt bad; I should've written down the phone number indicated at the bottom of the poster. _How are you supposed to know where she is? You've just arrived._ I know. Nevertheless, it preoccupied me for the rest of the walk.

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><p>Twenty minutes later (yes, it's worth saying it again: the campus is really <strong>really<strong> huge) I finally reached the Hamilton Hall. The building wasn't really high –only two floors- but quite vast, it was built in old bricks and had lots of squared or semicircular arch windows. Of course, ivy covered it broadly, claiming his membership of the world-famous league. It was part of Mathey College; one of the 6 residential colleges Princeton is divided into. The others are Rockefeller, Butler, Whitman, Forbes and Wilson.  
>I entered and came face to face with one of the most beautiful men I had ever seen. No, it was <strong>the<strong> most beautiful man I had ever seen. His cheekbones were prominent, he had a square jaw and undisciplined brown hair that makes you want to run your fingers through. He was very tall –at least 1,90m–, and had a build worthy of Greek Gods. He was wearing a pair of faded jeans and a grey t-shirt from the University which made not only his muscles visible but also brought out his eyes. These were sharp grey. They were magnificent, but in addition with the thin line formed by his lips, they made his face cold and tough. However, this one was astonishingly symmetric and he had delicate features.

"Are you looking for something?" he asked with a perfectly-under-control artificial smile, after what seemed to be an eternity.

I immediately turned my eyes away from him to look down at my feet. What happened to me? I've never **ever** been able to stare at a boy in the eyes more than one second. Being submissive was one of my many flaws in the current society where males want enterprising females. Unfortunately it wasn't me, and probably never will be. This time wasn't an exception to the rule, but the magnetism of his look pushed away my nature a short moment.  
>I swallowed my saliva and quickly glanced at him. He was smiling crookedly, apparently amused.<p>

"Hm, yes, the room number eighteen…" I shyly answered.

He imperceptibly raised his eyebrows, certainly surprised by my I-thought-I-hadn't-anymore-but-obviously-yes accent, but didn't comment.

"Turn left at the end of the corridor and this is the first room on your right."

"Okay, thank you."

He stepped back to let me pass. I hesitated but then regained self-control and followed his instructions. I could feel his eyes on me while I was trying to walk normally, which was a hard mission given my jelly knees. _He's undressing you_. No he's not. Why would he? I mean, all the boys I had met in my life seemed rather inclined to give me an additional sweatshirt.  
>I quickened my pace and finally reached my bedroom, whose door was in solid wood. The image of my future nest replaced <strong>his<strong> in my mind, just in time to save my panties from the imminent wetness. The room was big: it contained two desks, two chairs, two night tables with bedside lamps, a small fridge, a large wardrobe, a sink accompanied with a round mirror and of course, two beds. The ceiling was snow white whereas the walls were painted in burgundy, which was reminiscent of Mathey's emblem. A rectangular window that looked onto a beautiful courtyard lighted all of it. Everything was perfectly tidied up and sparkling clean.  
>Despite sunbeams that invited me to go out, I decided not to waste time and began to unpack my suitcase. I chose the left side of the closet but didn't place too many things in it in case where my roommate wouldn't be okay. Under my mountain of clothes, I found a picture of my sweet gelding that I didn't even remember taking with. I've already missed his whinny.<br>I was lost in my thoughts when I heard a newly familiar girly voice behind me.

"Oh come on, daaad! That's fine, I can do it by myself, you can go now! Hop it!"

I turned around and saw her. _Kate_. I opened my mouth in surprise.

"Ana?" she almost yelled, dropping her enormous bag. "Do not tell me you're my new roommate?"

I bit my lower lip, nervous. Doesn't she want me to stay? Did I make such a bad impression in the plane? I breathed in and answered very quietly.

"Yes…"

"Aaaaww, that's amazing! I can't believe it! How long do you stay? How old are you? Are you freshman? Why do you study here and not in Belgium? Oh maybe you're not here to study! Are you a new assistant? I should show you the campus! There are a lot of hot guys, trust me. Daaaad!"

She was debiting her words so fast that I struggled to understand. It didn't matter, tough, because she didn't let me answer. Her excitement made me laugh. There was no need to worry, she's apparently happy that we'll spend the first semester together. Me too, really.  
>Her poor father, expelled two minutes ago, came back running. He was breathing loudly when he arrived in front of the room and his eyes were wide open, probably concerned by his daughter's scream.<p>

"Dad, Ana. Ana, John Kavanagh, my father. It's incredible, dad, we met in the plane! And now we're roommates and future BFFs! Oh and she speaks French, that's so cool!" she was jumping up and down, clapping her hands.

She reminded me of Alice Cullen from The Twilight Saga, but in Rosalie's body. I observed her better now that we were standing in front of each other. Perched on twelve-centimeter heels, she dominated me broadly. She wore her hair up in a bun but wild strands were escaping from it, which made her face thinner. She was wearing a white top and a pink short that showed her endless legs, and to cap it all, her blue lagoon eyes were intensified by her tan. In conclusion, she has what it takes. She is so beautiful and I'm so jealous.  
>Even if I had taken only ten seconds to detail her, I felt ashamed. Looking at other women was something that I had refrained from for a long time now, because I didn't want people to think I was a lesbian. Unfortunately they do, even people who are close to me and it's hurtful. They're waiting for a coming-out that will never arise. The thing is that I am <strong>not<strong> ogling girls and I absolutely do **not** want to go out with them, I just admire them so I can find ways to improve myself. Other girls do this too, right? Seriously, does having kissed only two boys and being still a virgin at the age of twenty make me a lesbian? _Well… You really want me to answer?_ No! That was a rhetorical question!  
>My internal reflections restarted the eternal argument between my body and my brain, about whose fault it was: 'You look ugly!' 'It's you who live in a fairy tale, waiting for the Prince Charming!'… and claptrap. I decided to ignore them.<p>

"Pleased to meet you, Ana." M. Kavanagh held out his hand and I shook it.

"Same here!"

"Do not hesitate to put my daughter in her place if she's…"

"Dad! Enough! Let us between girls." she pushed him out of the room.

He winked at me just before she shut the door in his face. She turned back and brightly smiled at me.

"I'm so happy that it's you! My previous roommate was unbearable! It's gonna be your best year, you'll see! This university is great."

"Uh, I stay during 6 months only. I'm here for my Erasmus." I said, still surprised by my words.

Who could believe it? Princeton!

"Oh, what a pity!" she said with a sad pout but recovered in the blink of an eye. "Never mind, it will be your best 6 months then!"

Is it possible that she's even more positive than me? I adored her already.

"There is no shadow of a doubt over that!"

And I was sincere. I had been looking forward to coming here for so long that nothing could ruin my trip.

"You have lunch with me?"

It was more a statement than a question but I was glad she proposed; I was starving. _Second lunch of the day. Do I have to remind you all your good resolutions?_ Excuse me but, seriously, I don't call what we received in the plane 'food'. Consequently, it doesn't count.

"Yes, sure. I'm very hungry." I replied, smiling provocatively at my guilty conscience that was looking daggers at me.

Once changed (I swapped my pair of jeans for a blue skirt given the temperature), we headed for the Graduate College dining hall, where one can buy 'thousands of extra-delicious stuffs' according to Kate. I followed her through the campus and it became crystal clear that she was Rosalie. She adopted a self-confident pace and held her head haughtily. Actually, she looked like a bitch. Exactly like the first time I saw her in the plane. I wonder why she turned herself into such a _pétasse_ when we went out. She's usually so friendly. Well, since I've known her only for a few hours, I don't know. But she was really nice towards me. _Maybe she just needs an uglier friend to seem prettier. Typical._ You know what? Fuck. You.

When I discovered the Procter Hall, I stopped abruptly. _Oh mon Dieu_. Remember when I said it looked like Hogwarts? Well, saying that this room was a copy of the Great Hall would be a euphemism. It **was** the Great Hall. Two rows of large tables stretched as far as the end of the room, and the back wall was garnished by an incredibly huge stained-glass window. Impressive lusters were hanging from the vaulted ceiling which was extremely high. On lateral walls, one could find painted portraits of different men, probably illustrious contributors or founders of Princeton. Only the professors' seats were missing. Now I really wonder if students have to wear a Sorting Hat to be given a College… The room was almost full although it was 2.30pm; students' voices and the noise of flatware were resonating loudly. I could almost hear the famous Harry Potter Theme. _Magical_.  
>When Kate noticed that I wasn't by her side anymore, she turned around with a look of incomprehension.<p>

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, sorry." I snapped out of it and caught her up.

We headed for the rich self-service buffet. Indeed, everything seemed 'extra-delicious' and the large display of fruits broke all European prejudices. Nevertheless, still mad ad my reason, I chose something quite fat: fries. Kate took a Caesar salad and yoghurt. That's it, I feel guilty again.  
>Once seated, she returned to normal –or at least, to whom I knew as the normal Kate. She took a bite of salad and stroke up the conversation.<p>

"So, Ana, let's talk a bit about you! You said you were twenty, so it's not your last year of College?"

"For you, yes. I'll be twenty-one in October so it's my forth year but it doesn't mean final straight for me, because my program lasts five years in Belgium."

"Oh! And what are you studying?"

"Business. In fact, it's called business engineering but it doesn't exist out of Belgium." I've always found that ridiculous, by the way, since trade is clearly an international matter. _The Facebook page 'Could only happen in Belgium' doesn't exist for nothing_. "The main courses are accounting, law, economy and languages but we also have others like physics and chemistry."

"Brrr, sciences! I hate that! But it sounds good, or at least very varied."

"Yes, it is. I don't regret my choice, even if it's not really my vocation. I love reading and writing."

I had chosen my studies for many reasons, but 'by passion' was not one of them. My father had always told me to do what could give me a job rather than what I liked. I wasn't indignant that he thought that way because 1) I knew he wished I could find both and 2) given the current European economic situation, he was totally right.

"Maybe you should have chosen literature? But after all, who does what he likes nowadays, huh? And it's got nothing to do with but I thought that people only spoke Dutch in Belgium. I love French!"

"We have three official languages: French, Dutch and German." (And if you knew the amount of troubles it causes…) "As for me, I love English! Especially yours, you American. You have such sing-song accents. But enough about me; what about you? I wanna know everything!" I encouraged her to talk.

"Well, where to start? I've been studying here for three years now, it's my last year. I love Princeton. Besides being one of the most prestigious universities, the atmosphere is great, professors are very approachable and there are a lot of events organized throughout the year. I'm studying architecture and as you can see it, I have enough to be going on with! Princeton is a wonder of architecture." She finished with dreaminess.

Okay, so obviously she was talking about her earlier when she mentioned people who didn't like what they were doing, but I understood her wrong: she is one of those who actually **love** what they do. Surprisingly, I felt truly happy for her.

"Indeed, the campus is incredible."

"Wait, you haven't even seen the quarter of it. Mathey occupies most of the historic buildings on campus. For example, the Edwards Hall was built in 1880…"

I was listening carefully until **his** voice diverted my attention. I turned my eyes away from Kate (don't ask me why but I had to) and then I saw him. He was standing next to a table, a few meters further on. Damn, he was startlingly handsome. Since all girls around him were smiling blissfully or gesticulating seductively or both, it was clear that I wasn't the only one that thought so. He must have felt my eyes on him because he jerked his head in my direction and his look pierced me. He gave me an awesome half-smirk half-charming smile. _Oh My_. I instantly blushed and bit my lower lip, which seemed to be a bad thing because he lost his grin as instantly and his eyes darkened. I quickly focused back on Kate who was looking at me, hands on hips, with a 'do I bother you?' expression. I realized that I hadn't heard a single word she had said after '1880'.

"Oh Kate I'm sorry!" I blushed unabated.

"Apparently, Christian Grey is more interesting than me."

"Who?"

"The guy over there, his name is Christian Grey. He's outstanding, I'll give you that, but he's the biggest asshole the world has ever known. He needs a flaw, you're gonna tell me."

"Oh." Not surprising. _At all_. "Is he a student?"

"He was. And probably one of the smartest. He studied politics but he's an RGS now, a resident graduate student. He's from Rockefeller and therefore, resides there."

"And what do RGSs do?" I asked, curious.

"They organize fun trips and help undergraduates via study groups. However, I suspect Grey to sell his services, if you know what I mean. Last year, I think he slept with at least 50 girls, including assistant professors."

"Is it why you call him an asshole?"

"Isn't it enough?!" she rebelled.

I was taken aback by the animosity in her tone. It's not that I don't agree, but if there's something that experience taught me, it is not to judge people without knowing them. _Yes, but since you will never know him, who cares? _Fair point.

"Yes, sure." I nodded in feminine solidarity.

"The worst is that he's not the only one. His Greek friends are no better."

"His **Greek** friends?"

"Yeah, he's the vice-president of the student organization theta beta omega. They organize the best parties but it is extremely elitist. As a result, it's very difficult to join it, especially for women. In my opinion, they're all misogynists." she said with disdain.

"Okay, I think I got it: I must avoid θβΩ members."

"Exactly!" she looked at him and then rolled her eyes. "Pff, look at those girls who gravitate towards him. They inspire pity."

I glanced at him and caught him offering the same half-smirk half-enticing smile he addressed me earlier. _Oh please, don't tell me you thought it was reserved for you?_ No, I'm just wondering if I'm the only girl here that sees it doesn't reach his eyes.

* * *

><p>We finished the meal talking about the different parties we wanted to go to. Or rather the parties <strong>Kate<strong> wanted me to go to. I am not the kind of girl that goes out a lot but she convinced me when she said that it would be amazing and that we had to enjoy our last (well, for me last but one) year. Furthermore, I was really excited to discover everything that was waiting for me, and parties were definitely part of it.  
>We got up from the table to put our trays away. When we passed behind Christian, it was like the air was ionized; I could feel the energy that emanated from him and my muscles tensed automatically. Could he feel it too? I didn't dare to turn round because I knew that if I established contact with his deep gaze, my knees would let me down.<p>

During the afternoon, Kate undertook to show me the cult places on campus and this time, I made a point to stay concentrated. Fortunately we didn't cross **him**; otherwise I would have lost control of my body as there seems to happen every time I see him.  
>We came back to our bedroom around 6pm but I was already dead tired. <em>Jet-lag<em>. Yes, I could fully feel it now; it was knocking me out. It had to be about midnight now in Belgium.

"I'll have dinner with my friends tonight, kind of reunion dinner which became a tradition after holidays. Do you wanna come with?" Kate asked.

"It's nice to invite me but I'm too tired and I wouldn't like to be an intruder. They don't know me."

"Not yet, but I'm sure they will adore you!" she said with enthusiasm. "But I know jet-lag is a bitch so I'm gonna let you sleep."

I laughed.

"Have fun!"

As soon as she had closed the door, I slipped into my pajama –a large t-shirt and a mini-short–, braided my hair as usual, and felt asleep thinking about everything that was waiting for me. So many things to see, so many people to meet, so many experiences to live: it's so exalting to feel like you're beginning again!

* * *

><p><strong>What did you think? Please let me your impressions! (getting reviews is a really addictive phenomenon haha :p)<br>Chapter 3 will be there on August 9th ! (or maybe 8th for Americans, 10th for Chinese ^^)**


	3. Untouchable

**Good morning everybody :)  
>Here's the third chapter, I hope you will like it as much as the previous ones! Once again, thank you for your reviews!<br>Some of you advised me to find a beta... you were right, and now it's done! The amazing _TheOnlyMeThereIs_ accepted to correct my mistakes!  
>Characters belong to the extraordinary E. L. James<strong>

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 3 – Untouchable<span>

This morning, I woke up at 5.30, welcomed by the soft sunbeams which were breaking through the orange curtains. Kate was still in the arms of sleep, and I realized that I didn't hear her coming back during the night.  
>Not being able to go back to sleep, I decided to enjoy the morning peace by going running. I fastened my hair in a ponytail, opted for shorts and a green top and tied my sneakers. I took care to write a note to Kate so she wouldn't worry, and then went out silently.<br>Once outside, I breathed in deeply. The air was pure and fresh, which stimulated my body, which was still tied down to sleep. I selected my playlist 'Motivation' and started to run slowly to warm up. A refreshing wave unfurled within me. I **love** running. It had the effect of a drug on me.

I had been scampering along for fifteen minutes when **he** appeared. _Christian Grey_. I slowed down instinctively and stayed far enough away to ensure that he couldn't notice me.  
>How is it possible that he looks better each time I see him? He was wearing a pair of ripped jeans which hanged from his hips and… <em>Holy Shit. <em>He was shirtless. My mouth dropped open at the sight of his torso: his pecs were developed, but not too much; his abdominals were impressive and his 'V' was perfectly drawn. _He's so freaking hot_.  
>He seemed to be in a hurry (but his confident gait was not affected by it) and exhibited a determined expression that made him look even sexier. He was holding something in his right hand –a kind of collar with chains-, but the distance made it impossible to identify.<br>When he had disappeared behind a dark-bricked building, I decided to stop my run prematurely to discover where he came from. I moved forward cautiously. I was feeling like a child doing something wrong, despite there being no reason. I am allowed to visit the campus, right? Anyway, it's 6 am, nobody's out. _Hm hm so where are you? _Rrrr, you're useless!

I retraced Christian's steps and arrived in front of what seemed to be an annex to the Witherspoon's Hall, whose entrance was an imposing rib vault. The Rockefeller's heraldry –emerald green with three heads of tiger- had pride of place right over the arch. _Slytherin-like_.  
>I suddenly felt adventurous and decided to enter as it was open. The coolness assaulted me and my whole body shook violently. I was standing in a small corridor, soberly, (and gloomily,) decorated, whose floor was marble. There was only one door but it was worth seeing. This was at least 2 meters broad, as high as the ceiling and jet-black, which contrasted sharply with the immaculate walls. But most astounding of all was that it was in carved wood; the patterns sculpted with an infinite precision. One could notice different characters such as humans (some standing, others on their knees) or tigers and also unknown symbols.<br>I tried to interpret it but it was a fucking brain teaser. **If** there was a story to understand, the creator should've been more explicit. However, I noticed an inscription in Greek in the middle of the drawings. Not that I could speak nor even read Greek, but after fifteen long years spent in the company of my math course, I knew most of the alphabet.

Determined to know what it meant, I took a picture with my old Samsung and then left like a robber.  
>Have you ever felt like you were being sucked up by the darkness when you were leaving a scary area? Well, that was happening. I can't explain it, but this place felt frightening. <em>Remind me which one of us watches too many criminal TV shows? <em>I flipped off my reason and began to run, this time lengthening my strides.

When I came back to Hamilton, it was 7.45 and Kate was brushing her golden hair.

"Barely settled and you're already running in the morning! It's lucky that you didn't get lost!"

"I'm a run-aholic, no matter where I am." I replied, raising my shoulders in excuse. "And I had a great guide yesterday!" I added to flatter her.

"Well saved, Miss Steele!"

"How was your evening?" I asked.

"Perfect! On that subject, my friends are waiting for us in Procter for breakfast. I told them you would come."

It's only when she talked about food that I realized I hadn't eaten before my exercises. It was really rare.

"Okay. I'll be ready in 20 minutes, let me have a shower and I'll join you."

"It's a deal! See you in 19 minutes and 50 seconds then!"

She laughed and left the room as I was rolling my eyes. She's incorrigible. I hastened to have a wash (I **hate** shared bathrooms!), picked up my favorite pair of skinny jeans that I brightened up with a mint t-shirt, and headed for the dining hall.

So, I met Chad Sullivan, Cheryl Bates, Olivia Clayton and her brother Paul. Indeed, they were all very nice and especially very talkative. Nonetheless, I had difficulty to understand Cheryl because of her Texan accent. I guess I will get used to in the long run.  
>I was subjected to a genuine questioning, and only after they had reviewed my entire life (from my hometown to my favorite meal), they let me ask something. Something I've wanted to know for twenty-four hours.<p>

"Do you know the ginger girl who's missing? Who is she?"

The atmosphere changed and they looked at each other, ill-at-ease. Chad took the plunge.

"Well… Hm, she's a student from Butler College, freshman, probably 18. I think her name is Valentina but everyone calls her Valy. She disappeared in April last year."

"Did you know her personally?"

"Not really, but she's often at the Firestone Library and she sometimes asks me for advice. We both study chemistry."

"Stop talking about her in present tenses whereas we all know she's dead!" Olivia intervened.

"That's false! You don't know her! You act like a heartless bitch to protect your cousin!" Chad got worked up, looking at her nastily.

"Don't talk to my sister like that!" Paul retaliated to defend his sister.

_Ah! Damn it!_ Obviously, it wasn't a subject to tackle. What's behind all of this?

"Wow, calm down!" I implored, surprised by the sudden general irritation. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to create a fight. Please stop screaming. What are you talking about? I don't follow you, I'm lost."

After five endless minutes, Kate broke the heavy silence which had set in.

"She lodged a complaint for rape two weeks before her disappearance." Her look was empty and her jaw tensed when she said 'rape'. "It was a gang rape. She accused four members of θβΩ."

My blood froze.

"We know who?"

"No," Cheryl answered. "Apparently they had hoods, but she was sure that was them."

"My cousin is in the θβΩ's committee. He would **never** do that," Olivia said, looking daggers at Chad.

"You know what I think about it," Chad replied angrily.

"Can we change the subject?!" Paul begged.

Nobody spoke during the rest of the breakfast. The tension was palpable and it was my fault. _Great. _When we were clearing the table, Paul came up to me with a reassuring smile. Seemingly, my face was reflective of my sense of guilt.

"It is not your fault, Ana. It is still a taboo theme between us because we're not all of the same opinion. I can tell you more about it if you want, but in private. My room is in Joline Hall, number 45," he murmured, placing his hand in the small of my back.

It furiously sounded like an invitation. My skin crawled.

"Hum… Okay… I'll think about it, thank you," I said hesitantly.

I am curious, yes, and I want to know the truth, but it doesn't mean I would do everything for it.

"See you soon then," he winked at me and let his hand glide to my buttocks.

_WTF?! _I started back and swallowed my smile, but he didn't seem to notice it and went away nonchalantly. What is he thinking about? _Sex_. Noooooo, you're kidding? What I mean is: why the hell would he desire to have sex with me (nobody ever has!) and who the hell does he think I am? An easy lay who would give her body to have a piece of information? Bitch, please.  
>Dear Paul, I have now perfectly thought about it and I will <strong>not<strong> ask you anything else.

* * *

><p>The rest of the day went quickly. I ran across the campus to sign every administrative document, to enroll on every necessary course and to buy every compulsory book.<br>When I finally found a moment of time, I sat on a bench outside and opened my computer. There was something I needed to decipher. I googled the Greek phrase and clicked on 'I'm feeling lucky'. It did work because I almost immediately found the meaning of the aforesaid sentence:

'_He who has never learned to obey cannot be a good commander'_

A quote from Aristotle. What does it have to do with the student organization? Besides, I should do some research about it too.  
>I was about to touch the keyboard when a shadow descended upon me. There was no need to look up to know it was <strong>him<strong>; I could recognize his smell among thousands: a subtle mix of _eau de Cologne, _musk and apple that I love. I first froze and then resolved to raise my head.

"May I sit with you?" Christian asked politely.

His voice –deep and low- made my heart race and my mouth dry. Whereas all my senses were on the alert, butterflies were also flying in my stomach. Seems like my body doesn't sense the danger.  
>I could see in his eyes that he was sure I would agree, but he was waiting patiently for my approval.<p>

"Yes," I finally succeeded in articulating.

"Thank you."

He took place next to me. Too close. Our elbows were almost in contact and it sort of created a magnetic field between us: I was attracted to him like a magnet. My heart accelerated and I was pretty sure he could hear it beating against my chest. _It's getting ridiculous_.

"I do not want to disturb you, you can continue what you were doing," he said when I rapidly closed my laptop.

Oh no, impossible. I didn't want him to know I was actually doing research about him, and there was no way in hell I was going to ask him directly.

"No, that's fine. I… I was just… on Facebook," I lied with a contrite smile.

He anew offered me his half-smirk half-charming smile and since it was apparently a habit, I decided to name it _the charmirk_. As usual, I felt blood rushing to my cheeks.

"Where do you come from?" he asked point-blank.

"Belgium."

"Interesting. You're here for your Erasmus right?"

"Yes."

"Do you know where to find everything you need to be in order?"

"Yes."

_If you continue to answer by monosyllables, I feel like this conversation will be amazing. _

"Good. As a RGS, my mission is to help you, so do not hesitate to call me," he recited like a machine.

So this is why he came to me: to pour out the 'speech for new students'. Why else?  
>I suddenly felt bad for him. He has to offer his help to everyone (and any normal girl will accept it and be bloody grateful) but surely has other more important things to handle. <em>Really? Which ones? Because he's paid to be an adviser.<em> Remind me which one of us has negative prejudices towards strangers?! _I'm realistic, that's all. He profits from it, trust me_.Certainly, yeah. I remembered what Kate said.  
>I must admit that I'm also disappointed he only came for that, even though I should be used to, after all these years, being ignored.<p>

"My office is in Witherspoon Hall, number 5. Knock whenever you want, okay?" he continued, looking at me intensely.

Am I dreaming or is it an invitation? I relived the exchange I had with Paul this morning, except that Christian's proposition was way more tempting. Indeed, the butterflies in my stomach were going insane.  
>I nodded and when I bit my lower lip, he looked away nervously. Whereas he had been in a seductive mood so far, he seemed now pissed off. What did I do?<br>When he looked back at me, his irises were stormy grey and his pupils dilated. _Desire_.

"You should go back to your residence hall; it is not safe to stay out that late."

He used 'should' but his tone clearly indicated that it was an order. It made my panties even wetter (if it was possible) due to my natural submissiveness.  
>But is it really so late? I checked on my watch: 9 pm. Wow! I didn't realize the sun was already gone. The campus was shrouded in an orange mist which made it beautiful and scary at the same time.<p>

"Yes, sorry!" I hastened to say, standing up… a bit too quickly.

I wobbled but he stood up at full speed to hold me back. When he touched me, an electrostatic discharge occurred and we both stepped backwards, taken aback. He seemed preoccupied, frowning and staring into emptiness.

"Bye" I waved him briefly, but he didn't react.

I had to force myself to go away because my whole body wanted to stay right there. I had taken two steps forward when he called out. I turned back timidly.

"Anastasia… I was pleased to meet you."

_Oh my!_ He saying my name felt erotic. It was weird to hear my entire first name, though. Besides, how does he know it?! Did he do research about me? _You're getting paranoid! Have you ever heard of Facebook?_  
>He seemed sincere, but I'm sure he knows <strong>exactly<strong> what to do and say to bring women to his feet.

"… Me too," I answered with a shy smile, before heading for Hamilton.

I could still hear my prior English professor: "If you answer 'me too' when someone tells you 'nice to meet you', it means that you're enchanted to meet yourself!", but Christian turned me upside down, it was impossible to think (so impossible to talk) properly when he was close to me. Fucking limbic brain!

At 1 am, I was still awake. I had difficulty to fall asleep because I was overthinking. About **him**, of course, but also about many different fuzzy things. Hundreds of questions gnawed at me whereas I had been in Princeton for only two days.  
>Why does Christian act like he's seducing me? I'm certainly not the kind of girl he likes, so what is he looking for? Why does he stay here while he could work and probably earn a lot of money thanks to his diploma? Why did his attitude change suddenly yesterday in the dining hall and earlier during our 'conversation'? What was he doing when I saw him in the morning? What is hidden behind the mysterious door that necessitates a biometric authentication device? Does it have something to do with the student organization? Where is Valentina? Why is Olivia protecting her cousin? And I'm sure Chad knows more than he says.<br>Pfff, I'm not out of the woods.

* * *

><p><em>I was in Paul's bedroom… we were talking about Valy when he began to act strangely… his gests became uncalled-for… he was complimenting me but it rang false… I was trying to push him away but he was stronger than me and forced me to lie on the bed… he was now insulting me… I succeeded in releasing myself and ran to the door but I was locked inside… when I turned back he had a knife and Valy was lying, dead, at his feet…<em>

I woke up with a start, still tied down to my nightmare. That's it, a boy is kind to me and I'm freaking out. What's wrong with me? _I wonder too_.  
>I straightened my back and rubbed my eyes, trying to snap out of it. It was 9 am and Kate was already gone. She told me yesterday that she had a fashion show in California, but that she would 'be there for the start of the festivities' (understand: the first class of the year).<br>I opened the window to air the room, quickly washed my face, slipped on denim shorts, slicked my hair back with my Ray-Ban sunglasses and went out with my computer. I was determined to penetrate some of the secrets which haunted me while enjoying this beautiful day. The sun was already high in the sky, shinier than ever.

I decided to skip breakfast since my belly was still shaken because of my nightmare (well, the truth is that I also didn't want to be the only friendless girl who eats alone).  
>I walked a bit in the direction of the Art Museum and came upon a huge grass where lots of students were already hanging out, sleeping, tanning, playing 'beach tennis', reading and so on. Trees and rhododendrons in bloom made the area very pleasant and colorful. Perfect place to go unnoticed.<br>I sat down cross-legged against an apple tree and opened my laptop. I first logged in on Facebook and discovered two messages, ten notifications and six friend requests.

The notifications were principally game requests and it pissed me off. Do I look like someone who plays Candy Crush?!

The messages, as for them, were more interesting. They were from my brother and my friend José Rodriguez. The former informed me that he would always communicate by social networks because it cost too much to text me (good old Thibault!), whereas the latter wished me a great trip, saying that he would miss me.  
>José is one of the rare men with whom I can be me and despite his height, he doesn't intimidate me. It is probably because we have known each other since our childhood. As his name suggests it, he's of Spain origin, but his family moved to Belgium when he was four. We went to the same grade school and became best friends, but then lost touch when I went to Paris. Three years ago, I saw him in Brussels, he told me he was studying communication and we instantly felt close to each other again. It was like I never left.<br>I answered to him –promising him the exclusivity of scoops and pictures- without forgetting to add different smileys (otherwise it means that you're angry).

I then looked at the friend requests. They were from Kate, Chad, Paul, Olivia, Cheryl and… _Christian Grey_. My heart skipped a beat. Are we friends? I wonder if it's a part of his RGS (I mean: Resident Graduate Seducer) ritual. Since he has more than one thousand friends, probably. Anyway, I accepted his request as well as the five others, not without a retch for Paul. Stupid nightmare.

I skimmed through their profiles, let a few 'likes' and finished by Christian. His wall was uncluttered, with few group pictures and no post, except shared Princeton-related events and announcements. Furthermore, his cover picture was Rockefeller's emblem with the Greek letters θβΩ. However, he was distinctly visible –and scandalously sexy- on his profile picture. It was a head-and-shoulders portrait; he was wearing a green sweatshirt of the University and was looking far off, his hair in its perfect disorder. I could neither stop myself from checking his relationship status nor refrain my excitement when I saw the word 'single'. _Oh please, it's not like you even had a tiny chance_. I know, and if Facebook proposed that option, one would probably read 'with a different woman every night' because, indeed, it was not 'complicated'. Anyway, I knew I would've been disappointed if he had an official girlfriend. _No, you would've been jealous_. Well, you're right. But why?! I met him three days ago, we talked twice and his reputation doesn't work on his favor! … Human nature is really incomprehensible.

* * *

><p>Now that I was a member of the Princeton's fitness complex, that my stomach was fed and that I found one library, I undertook to finish the reading of 'Start with Why' from Simon Sinek.<br>I had to write a report about it for my return in Belgium, and actually it didn't bother me since it was really interesting. I put my headphones on and began to flip pages.

I was absorbed in the book when someone suddenly sat on my left. Once again, the automatic reaction of my body told me it was Christian before I could say 'Oh!'.  
>Okay so he asked me once and because I accepted he thinks he can sit next to me whenever he wants? <em>Hey, we're in 2014! Men and women develop in the same sphere. And don't do as if you didn't like that<em>. No that's okay but he scared me! And even if I was genetically predisposed to fall into his clutches, something told me that if I wanted to survive, I had to stay away.  
>I slowly looked up to see him. As usual, he displayed a confident expression, and he was staring at me as if I was a prey. <em>Indeed, you are<em>.

"Hi, Anastasia," he whispered as we had to keep quiet.

Please, say it again.

"What are you reading?"

" 'Start with Why' from Simon Sinek."

He was disturbing me so much that I had to look at the cover to remember the title.

"Excellent book. Sinek's sentiments are true and concrete; very useful for politicians as well as businessmen. I guess you don't read it for your own pleasure?"

His tongue rolled on the word 'pleasure' and it sent a shiver down my spine. I glanced at him and his crooked smile proofed that he knew what he was doing. _Asshole!_  
>I tried to adopt an assured voice to answer but lamentably failed.<p>

"I also find it really powerful. And no, indeed, I didn't decide to read it. I have to for my entrepreneurship class." I admitted. "But why that guess? Am I **so** not the kind of girl supposed to read that?"

_Incredible! You aligned more than three words!_

He seemed surprised by my question, but recovered in the blink of an eye. Maybe I was a bit too aggressive at the end. I'm sorry, it's just that I hate men who consider that business is reserved for them.

"Absolutely not. It is just that we are still on vacation, so most of the people do not care about college."

That's it, he thinks I only live to study.

"Well, I wanna have enough time from September 10th to focus on the courses here, so I'm working on this now."

"And it's all to your credit," he smiled as he probably noticed I was embarrassed.

I shyly smiled back.

When Lady Gaga's song 'Do What You Want' rang out in my ears, I immediately began to blush. Not this one, not now. I bit my lower lip deeply and seized my iPod. Or at least, tried. I was about to touch the device when he pulled at my chin to release my trapped lip. My brain instantly stop to function.

"Don't!" he reprimanded me, raising his tone.

He was terrifying and his eyes were now threatening but I could see a burning flame of desire dancing in his dark pupils. _This is it!_ _The cause of his mood swings!_ Obviously, yes, but why?!  
>He seemingly noticed that he was scaring me because his voice softened when he continued.<p>

"You have beautiful lips, don't damage them."

"S…sorry," I stuttered.

I gave up the idea of reaching my iPod because his touch had let me paralyzed. I was usually an active girl who could do many things simultaneously but his presence inhibited all my abilities. Never mind, Ana. Be strong and focus neither on him nor on the song. That was almost impossible; I could feel my body ready to do whatever he would've asked it to.  
>His sexual radar probably detected an opportunity –or at least my attitude intrigued him- because he tilted his head to one side and cautiously took one of my headphones to put it in his right ear. <em>NO! Shit!<em>

He raised his eyebrows.

"Interesting music choice," he said as a predatory smile was taking shape on his face.

The lyrics visible in his grey eyes were definitely 'do what I want with your body' while he could surely read 'help me now' in mine.  
>He slowly replaced my earphone and let his fingers glide along my neck, still giving me an incandescent look. At that very instant, I was <strong>dying<strong> to touch him.  
>As the rest of me was absorbed in contemplation, my survival instinct reacted as a last resort and activated my tongue.<p>

"I… Sorry, I… I have to go." I said as I rapidly stood up and gathered my things together.

He copied me as a perfect gentleman but fiercely caught my elbow, preventing me from going away. Hey, what's wrong with you Christian? I grimaced under his grip and he promptly released me. When he began to speak, he seemed confused and during two tiny seconds, he struggled to find his words (yeah, incredible).

"Ana… I… hm… There's a party next week to welcome new students. It takes place on Friday 7th in Nassau Hall. You should come, it will be great."

Okay, so it wasn't a 'sorry'. _Does he look like a guy who apologizes?_ No, but then I hope he doesn't expect me to be a girl who follows his orders without flinching. Because this is what it was. An order. Again. And I was decided not to respect it.

"I don't know yet…" I said, ill-at-ease.

It was the most convincing refusal I had been able to offer because actually, my body was stirred by anticipation at the thought of being at Christian's mercy. My gut decision would inevitably be to do everything he wanted me to but, fortunately, my reason was there to protect me. Just because he had asked me to come made me **crave** to come –just to see him once again-, but I had to pretend he had no effect on me… or I'd be on the road to ruin. Furthermore, I wanted to talk to Kate about it before because I wasn't willing to go to the party alone.

He frowned and seemed disconcerted by my hesitation but when he spoke again, his usual self-confidence was well and truly there.

"Kate Kavanagh takes part in that party every year, she will come."

How the hell does he know I was thinking about her?! Am I so easy to read through? He was slowly getting on my nerves.

"Well, just because she goes out doesn't mean I also will. So saying, enjoy the rest of your day," I replied drily before leaving the library.

This is what anger does to me: it gives me the courage to overcome my submissiveness. However, it wasn't the only thing. Indeed, after twenty years spent with me, myself and I, I've noticed that a much younger, smaller or introverted interlocutor does the same. (Useless observation in the present case since Christian was the complete opposite.)

Once in my bedroom, I noticed, horrified, that I had forgotten my book in the library. _Shit!_ I'll have to go back tomorrow because it is closed now… I just hope it will still be there.  
>A little voice in my head told me Christian might have taken it but it wasn't much help since I didn't know how to contact him. <em>Witherspoon, 5<em>. Oh no, I am **not** going to his office.  
>I was quarreling with my(other)self about me knocking at his door or not when my phone vibrated. It was a text message from an unknown number that said:<p>

_I have your book. I'll be in my office tomorrow between 10 and 11am. Have a sweet night.  
>Christian.<br>_

* * *

><p><strong>Would you go to Christian's office? Let me know :D<br>Lemon will take some time to come because... what do you think? That I'm an easy lay who would write sex to get reviews?! Bitch, please. Hahahaha :p  
>See you soooooon ! xoxo<strong>


	4. Should've Said No

**Hello guys :)  
>You were waiting for it, here it is! Chapter 4 :D Sorry it took so long but I was very busy planning my holidays... Huge thank you to <em>KBelle1<em>, my new beta, for her amazing job ! Enjoy! xoxo  
>PS: I want to advise you that I don't know how a US university works, so everything is the fruit of my imagination and my European experience. If something is really zany, feel free to tell me! ^^<br>Characters belong to E. L. James**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 4 – Should've Said No<span>

That night, I… didn't dream about Christian Grey. In fact, it was quite the contrary: he prevented me from sleeping. **How the hell** did he find my number? Nobody here had it, not even Kate. Moreover, it's hidden on Facebook and Twitter.  
>I re-read the SMS he sent me at least a hundred times, but still don't know what to answer. '<em>Thank you<em>'? No, because all he wants is me in his office (God knows why). At least he cut short my prior hesitation: I had no choice, I had to knock at his door. _Mr. Grey doesn't come out, women do_. Yes, I'm beginning to know him, which makes me want to abandon my book.  
>Well, the truth was also that the more I knew him, the more I wanted to know about him. I was literally captivated by him. Each time he was in front of me, butterflies were getting mad in my stomach and it was like my skin was aimed at sticking to his. My heart was racing and I wasn't able to speak anymore, only stutter. Worse, I couldn't control it and it was driving me crazy. But the worst was that I had no effect on him. How can a person have such a hold on another without feeling anything? I succeeded in throwing him twice though –and it made me very proud-, but his surprise lasted such a short time that I was wondering if it wasn't the fruit of my imagination.<br>Anyway, I had to make a decision. First, I seriously considered sending him, '_As far as I know, you're not disabled, so please meet me in the library to give it back to me. I'll be there between 10 and 11am. Thank you in advance_.' But then changed my mind since he was probably very busy and was kind enough to keep my book. _You're so naïve_. He deserves the benefit of the doubt!

At 10:30, I was heading for Witherspoon Hall. Because I didn't want him to misunderstand my intentions, I had decided to wear a large hoodie and a pair of jeans that hid my curves. With that heat, it was torture. I also limited the make-up to a bit of mascara and let my wavy hair freely fall on my shoulders.  
>Once in front of his door, stress suddenly came over me. I should've said no. What am I going to say? <em>The right question is, will you be able to talk? <em>Oh I will, I just hope my body won't betray me…  
>I took a deep breath and knocked. Or at least, tried to. Christian opened the door before I had the time to brush against it. Undoubtedly, he always has a head start over me!<p>

"Anastasia," he nodded politely to greet me. "Please, come on in."

He stepped back and made a sign to invite me in. I entered cautiously, not without glancing at him. He was handsome, as usual. His hair was true to form and he was wearing a white shirt whose sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, which revealed his suntanned forearms.  
>When he closed the door, I deliberately ogled his ass, perfectly hugged in his flannel pants.<br>I was so concentrated on his amazing body that I didn't notice that** he**, noticed me. He was staring at me with his charmirk, waiting for me to meet his eyes. And that's what I did, during two seconds before looking down at my feet, blushing more than ever.

"Do you like what you see?" he asked, amused.

"Yes… no! … uh, yes… hm, I'm sorry…" I stammered.

"You don't have to be. I like what I see too," he replied, scanning me from my head to my feet with intensity.

Despite his incredibly sexy crooked smile, his eyes were distant and impenetrable.  
>He was undeniably lying. Indeed, my clothes seemed to complete their mission: there was no sign of desire emanating from him. Although it was what I theoretically wanted, I found myself disappointed. I realized that the feeling of being desired –all new for me-was really intoxicating. For the first time in my life, I had the impression that I could appeal to men. I would've killed to feel it once again.<p>

"Please, have a seat," he gently ordered me, indicating the leather armchair in front of his desk.

"I… thank you but I just want my book back," I shyly replied.

"You will have it, but sit down a few minutes," he non-gently ordered, seemingly irritated.

I didn't answer but reluctantly obeyed. He nodded in satisfaction, walked around his imposing desk, and took place in his chair.

"You did not answer my message," he stated.

His voice was softer but he was looking at me unblinkingly, waiting for an explanation.

"There was no question…" I pointed out to him.

"Well, when I offer you to come into my office, I expect you to tell me if you will or not. I have many things to handle which do not allow me to wait for you uselessly. Time is money, you should know it given your professional orientation," he replied drily.

I was feeling like a child getting told off. He was so self-confident, so authoritarian, so unpleasant and… so hot. I was so weak in front of him. His beauty almost made me forget his arrogance. Almost. He will have to learn that getting on my nerves isn't the good way to dominate me.  
>Mr. Anger took control of my mouth and responded as drily as him:<p>

"Well, when you **ordered** me to come into your office, I hesitated because you mustn't tell me what I have to do. You didn't have to take my book, so I do **not** owe you anything. Now, please give it to me because **I** am the one waiting uselessly."

He raised his eyebrows, as surprised as me by my boldness. His eyes ignited and I immediately regretted my words and looked down at my joint hands, dreading his reaction. I just wanted to get out. If I wasn't so proud, I would've let him win and run away without my book.

I jumped when he suddenly put the work down on the desk in front of me. I didn't hesitate and seized it before standing up and heading straight for the door.  
>I caught the latch and activated it but nothing happened. I was locked. <em>Great<em>. Obviously, his physical appearance was so powerful that it could not only make up for his despicable behavior, but also hide the danger he was representing. I **hate** my hormones!  
>I tried a second time but it didn't work. My nightmare came back to my mind like a boomerang and horrible images began to file past my eyes. My breath became erratic and I began to feel dizzy. Ana, do not panic.<br>I stopped breathing as I heard him behind me. He drew level with me and delicately took a key out of his pocket. He unbolted the door but when I tried to open it, he quickly placed his right hand flat on the black wood to prevent me from leaving. Impossible to vie with him, he was ten times stronger than me.  
>I sighed in a sign of renunciation, and focused on his strong hand to keep calm. In no time, his long fingers and prominent veins hypnotized me and I realized that I loved hands as much as I detested feet. I couldn't help thinking about what they could inflict to each part of my body; positively and negatively. (Okay, more positively than negatively.)<br>I slowly turned around to face him. His posture was off-hand and he widely towered above me, beautiful and intimidating at the same time. We were so close that his delicious smell was wrapping me like a cloud, making me lose my head. My panties became wet and desire began to consume me to the core. I had never felt something that intense, it was almost unbearable. Whereas I was ready to flee from him two minutes ago, I was now dying to kiss his perfect lips. I felt myself being attracted to him like a magnet while his mouth was getting dangerously closer to mine.  
>Once again, my survival instinct saved me just in time by re-activating my brain, allowing my feet to move. I started back and then impulsively kissed him on the cheek to… <em>To what?!<em> I realized that I had kissed him without valid reason.  
>Taken aback, he released the door and I ran out of the office. And I got it: my gut decision was to kiss him because it was a way out. Seems like my instinct of self-preservation is more useful and smarter than I thought.<p>

I had been running for five minutes –not without feeling stupid-, when I decided to slow down inasmuch as he wasn't following me. I stopped to catch my breath and try to clarify my thoughts. In vain. I still had his taste on my lips. His skin was so soft… Brrr, Ana, get your act together! I shook my head to banish his image from my mind. Impossible. I think I will need more than that to forget him.

* * *

><p>I spent the rest of the day working on 'Start with Why', nibbling a speculoos from time to time. I had hoped that working non-stop could help me not to think about Christian, but that was not the case. Indeed, his perfume was literally incrusted in the book and as a result, I struggled to stay undistracted.<br>As my brain was beginning to tire, I decided to go to the sports complex to run a bit. It would surely be more effective to disconnect from reality.  
>While I was changing from my casual clothes to my sportswear, I took some time to examine my body.<br>What does he like about me? I am over-trite, have love handles and don't have plump lips. Okay, my boobs are great but it has never been enough to appeal to boys. _Excuse me but, why do you think he's interested in you?_ I may have no experience but I'm not blind. You can have a pure body but a perverted mind; I am living proof of that. (**You** are the perverted mind.) I know what desire looks like, I can recognize the visible physical changes. It is something he can't hide. He wants something from me –his intentions are clear- but his 'why' is fuzzy. Seems like he should review the main principle of the book he likes so much!  
>I fastened my hair in a high ponytail and left my room.<p>

The journey to the closest gym lasted fifteen minutes (at a run!) so that I was tired before I could see the entrance. Fortunately, I love running, have a good endurance and was motivated; otherwise I would have returned to my loving bed.  
>It was 6:30 pm when I arrived, which was perfect since I had planned to exercise for ninety minutes, and the building was open till 8:30 pm. I placed my towel, my shower gel, and a change of clothes in a locker, and then headed for the only available treadmill.<br>Although the room was immensely big and very well-stocked, it was almost full. Beads of sweat covered most of the faces but the air was fresh thanks to the opened windows. Three flat screens were suspended from the ceiling, broadcasting BBC programs, but their sounds were masked by the different body-building devices' noise. The atmosphere was so rousing that I had no difficulty to get on with it rapidly. Furthermore, my playlist 'Motivation' helped me to reach my cruising speed in only eight minutes.

I was absent-mindedly watching TV when **he** entered. _Fuck!_ His grey eyes met mine almost immediately and I instantly lost my tempo, nearly falling in front of everybody. _What a bungler!_ I could see on my polar that my heart was racing, making it hard to breathe. Christian, as for him, was charmirking at me with arrogance while he was nonchalantly walking to a rowing machine. How can he be so loathsome and sexy simultaneously?  
>He began to row with a disconcerting easiness; his impressive biceps contracting and relaxing in rhythm. Even in that weird position he was scandalously hot.<br>When he judged that his level of sweat necessitated being shirtless, he didn't deprive us of it. I don't know how God makes it possible but his torso was even more astonishing than the first time. It almost hurt to look at him.

After five minutes, it was too much. I looked away somehow and tried to focus on the screen. I **had** to ignore him if I wanted to be effective. Since all the girls in the room had their gazes fixed on him, I supposed he wouldn't miss mine.  
>Well, obviously I was wrong. Indeed, I had just stopped admiring him that he swapped his rowing device for a weight bench… in front of me. This wasn't even available: he chased away the previous user! What to think? <em>He's taunting you<em>. Probably, and it made me ill-at-ease. I wanted to leave but didn't want to let him win and force me to stop prematurely. Worse: he would be capable to follow me! Instead of capitulating, I decided to stay till closing, hoping he would be gone before I had finished.

Worst. Idea. Ever. At 8:25 pm, we were just the two of us, I was exhausted, Christian wasn't, it was too late to have a shower on the spot, I was starving, it was raining and it was now impossible to leave without having to deal with him. _Amazing_.  
>I was thinking about a way to escape when a greasy-haired man appeared suddenly in the room, seemingly annoyed. He was frail and looked like a rat.<p>

"The fitness center will be closed in three minutes. Please go out, straightaway!" he told **me**, grumpy.

Apparently, he was the caretaker of this building and his orders didn't concern The Almighty Mr. Grey. I slowed down, getting ready to switch off the device.

"She's with me, Richard." Christian said while staring at me.

_WTF?!_ I abruptly stopped the treadmill. I addressed him an outraged look and he offered me his best charmirk in response. My body reacted in less than one microsecond, devastating the little will remaining to me. Aaaargh, I **hate** him!

Richard stared at me in turn and his mouth twisted into a salacious smile.

"Oh! Alright, have a good time Grey."

"Thank you, same to you," the concerned party politely replied.

Without another word, Richard left the room. Like Christian's grin, the caretaker's disgusting smile made me shiver, but in a different way. Whereas the former titillated my libido, the latter activated adrenaline, enabling me to back off.  
>What was he talking about when he said 'have a good time'? <em>You're so idiotic that I have to answer or you will understand by yourself?<em> Damn it! I think I hate you as much as him! Of course I know, I was Christian's next one-night stand. All cases that's what he thought. My tenacity woke up suddenly. No. It will **not** end that way.  
>Holding back my irritation, I rushed to the cloakroom to take my stuff and leave that place as quickly as possible.<br>Well, it was stupid to try to avoid Christian. When I turned around, I saw him standing in the door frame. First thought: even sweaty he's fucking magnificent… Second thought: shit! He's disturbing me again! Third thought: how will I go out?

"Where are you going?" he asked on a reproachful tone.

Oh my Goood! He wants me to be his prey **and** to like it?

"To my bedroom. Please, let me go," I answered, still incapable of looking at him in the eyes. (I however tried to be very dry.)

"It is out of question. It's raining and it takes fifteen minutes to go to Hamilton. You've just stopped working out, you will catch a chill walking up to there."

"Then I'll run," I said, exasperated.

I rolled my eyes and he immediately took a step forwards, more threatening than ever.

"Anastasia, I'm serious," he rebuked me. "You will come with me to Witherspoon and have a shower."

"No. I am not with you, as you maintained," I replied courageously, insisting on the 'with you'.

"Please, let me go."

My voice was becoming pleading against my will. I attempted to steer clear of him but he moved to his left to block me. My heartbeat began to speed up. Why does he make such a fuss about that?

"No way," he replied, impassive.

"Christian, let me pass. I… I still have things to do and…"

"It will wait," he interrupted me.

"I need to eat…"

Indeed, I was totally worn out –my level of energy was bordering on nothingness—and my head was spinning.

"You can eat in my room."

_In his room?_ A part of me, increasing minute after minute, was shaking in anticipation at the sight of his lascivious smile. _Oh My_.

"Christian…" I began, short on ideas.

"Anastasia, it's an order," he cut me off severely and grabbed my arm fiercely.

That's it, he hit the sensitive nerve. Said like that —especially with that husky voice— I was forced to obey. Dopamine was already flowing in my veins, supplying contaminated blood to my muscles that began to submit themselves, ready to follow him, while my brain was desperately struggling to stay lucid. He always caused contradictory reactions in me but this time, it was more powerful than ever.  
>My mind disconnected to escape from his terrifying ascendancy and I surprised myself thinking about him raping me. In fact, I realized that it was almost an impossible situation since I couldn't count on my body to help me: I wouldn't be able either to resist or to reject him. He (and any other person, especially a judge) could easily believe that it was what I wanted. Actually, I started to believe it myself. I could perfectly imagine the action before the Court: 'Mrs. Steele, were you attracted by Mr. Grey?' 'Yes' 'Were you wet when he was supposedly about to rape you?' 'Yes…' 'Did you like what he did?' 'Yes!' … Wait, and if Valentina…? HEEELP!<p>

Christian's soft hands on my shoulders pulled me from my nightmarish thoughts. _Well, I never! Now you're suffering from Walter Mitty syndrome?! _  
>I was feeling sick: my eyesight was becoming blurred, my legs were about to give way beneath me and my hands were prickling. Anxiety attack. That's what happens when my nature compels me to do something that terrorizes me. I was the powerless witness of a conflict of interest within myself.<p>

"Anastasia, are you okay?" Christian asked, worried.

His confident attitude gave way to stress and his eyes, frightened, were probing mine to try to read through me. He was frowning at me and his palms were gently squeezing my bare shoulders to make me react.

"I'm not feeling very well…" I articulated with difficulty.

My ears began to ring and when I wasn't able to clearly distinguish the details of his angelic face anymore, I knew I would pass out… Or more accurately: **grey** out.

* * *

><p>When I recovered, I found myself lying down on a very comfortable mattress, only covered by a fine satin sheet which molded my curves perfectly. The sensation was delightful on my naked legs, as if the material was delicately floating on my limbs. However, my mouth was furry and I was feeling muddled, like after a night of heavy drinking —purely theoretical comparison since I've never drunk that much.<br>I was tempted to let me sink into sleep afresh when I became aware of my partial nudity. I **never** sleep in underwear. I opened my eyes pronto and when I realized that I wasn't in my own bed, events came back to me with full force. I fainted… _Shit!_ And given the familiar heady perfume of the pillows, Christian brought me to his room. _Re-shit!_  
>I have never been very stress-proof but losing consciousness was rare. It was weird. Very weird. Actually, it was too weird to be normal. How long have I been 'sleeping'? Is he here? Why the hell am I in underwear?! <em>Ana, calm down. Analyze the situation before becoming hysterical.<em>

That's what I did. I didn't dare to move fearing that he might see me, so I furtively observed the setting around me.  
>As far as I could see, the room was huge —way more than a standard one—, the walls were off-white and sported a large bunch of abstract art paintings, all in brown-red tones. I could also make out an old cherry wood sideboard, and next to the furniture sat imposingly a vintage Chesterfield armchair, which gave the apartment a great deal of character. It could have made the atmosphere warm if it wasn't so quiet.<p>

I turned over in silence and the sight of Christian interrupted my contemplation… and my breathing. He was seated on a stool, elbows on knees, head between hands. His soaked hair, his clean clothes and his fresh smell of shower gel (that's where the apple scent comes from!) and _Eau de Cologne_ informed me that he had a shower. He seemed preoccupied and obviously didn't notice me because he didn't move. Turning tables hahaha!

"Hi…" I said in a whisper.

"Jesus!" he jumped and looked up at me with wide eyes. These were splendid. "I thought you would never…" he continued lower but didn't finish.

He thought I would never what? Wake up? Christian, come on! I'm surely not the first girl your charm makes fall all over you. _Well, the ones who __**literally**__ fall are probably quite rare…_  
>Shame engulfed me. I began to blush but took care not to bite my lip.<p>

He sighed deeply. He closed his eyes a short moment and pinched his nose bridge. His anxiety let place to seriousness.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Terrific and terrible," I honestly answered.

Indeed, I was appeased by his presence but confused after my artificial sleep. My eyelids weren't heavy anymore but my body was leaden; each movement requiring a ton of energy.

"It could've been worse. It's lucky that I caught you."

He wasn't the usual Christian. He seemed more insecure, less harsh… as incredible as it sounded.

"I'm sorry. It doesn't happen often, I… I don't know why… I'm sorry… Thank you."

"That's fine. Just… don't do this ever again!" he joked, falsely angry.

I smiled shyly and he offered me a large sincere grin in return. These were so rare that my heart skipped a beat. Actually, I'm wondering if it isn't the first one since I've known him. In any case, he was dazzling me.

The long silence that followed was pleasurable and without awkwardness. I could've stayed like that in this bed for an eternity, but I urged to know something. After I had thought twice about it, I took the plunge.

"Did we… did we do something?" I dared to ask, hoping he would say 'no'… or maybe 'yes'… No, definitely 'no'.

I was sure to be dressed before I fainted; he might have done anything and that was scaring the shit out of me.  
>Something imperceptibly changed in his attitude, and I knew the normal Christian was about to come back. I regretted my question but it was too late. <em>Obviously, twice is not enough when it comes to Christian Grey<em>. He's so unpredictable.

He looked at me with a raging intensity and then frowned, probably thinking about which mask to wear. He decided to settle on the most common one –the confident seducer- and it had an immediate impact on his lips, which sprawled into a lascivious smile.

"Would you like it to be the case?" he avoided my question, playing with me like a cat with a mouse.

Tom, listen. You should know that Jerry is not used to getting messed around. (At least, I found my dear loving flame of desire again.)

"How long have I been sleeping?" I courageously defied him.

It could've been possible to stay brave if he had stayed seated. But he stood up and began to walk toward the bed like a feline. Now, he was intimidating at the highest point.  
>I sat up straight and slowly began to move backwards, making sure that I remained covered.<p>

"Why does it matter?" he asked casually.

I wanted to scream 'BECAUSE IT IS NOT NORMAL TO FAINT WITHOUT REASON AND I'M FEELING LIKE A GIRL UNDER FUCKING GHB!' but reconsidered and kept his game going.

"What time is it?"

"What do you remember?"

Ana, keep calm, he's trying to destabilize you.

"Why…" I stopped as he climbed on the bed and drew closer to me until my back hit the headboard.

"Why am I in underwear?" I asked in a murmur.

"Because it suits you incredibly well," he stated.

Yoohoo! First real answer. Nevertheless, it didn't please me. Or does it please me too much? Always two sides of a same reality. Aaaargh he's driving me crazy!

"Christian, did you undress me?" I finally asked the one-million-dollar question.

"Yes," he said brusquely, placing his hands against the wall on either side of my head. I was feeling tiny under him, completely at his mercy. "And you liked it," he added sensuously.

_Fuck!_ I had never contemplated the eventuality that my body could react instinctively when my mind was absent. Given the effect he usually has on me, I don't dare imagining what I might have done.

"No…" I thought out loud to try to reassure me.

"Yes, you did," His nose touched mine. "You moaned…" His lips brushed mine. "And squirmed… and said my name."

_What?!_ No, no, no!

"It didn't occur to you that I might have wanted you to stop?"

"Trust me, you wanted me to continue."

"So why did you forget my undergarments?" I provoked him.

"Who tells you I did?" he raised his eyebrows suggestively.

His reply let me speechless. _Oh mon Dieu_. I couldn't think properly anymore. I was aghast by the fact that his touch didn't wake me up. How was it possible? (I take back what I said about my self-preservation instinct being useful.)  
>Am I still a virgin? It made me giddy. <em>It's fortunate that you're not standing this time.<em> I just wanted to close my eyes and disappear.  
>God seemed to have listened to me, because when I was about to release my tears, Christian received a phone call. I thought he would ignore it since he didn't bat an eye during the first seconds –watching me intently- but he finally move backwards and pulled out an enormous smartphone from his jeans' back pocket.<p>

"Grey." he said meanly, without taking his eyes off me.

Now that I was free, I jumped out of the bed, seized my clothes which were bent on a night stand and ran out of the room. I looked for the bathroom –where I was pretty sure there would be a lock- which I found quickly. I closed the door behind me and then finally breathed.  
>What have I gotten myself into? Or rather: what did I get dragged off into? It <strong>has<strong> to be a nightmare. Please.  
>I pinched myself and Mr. Pain greeted me with an ironic smile. <em>Damn<em>.  
>I focused on my respiration and… got intoxicated by the smell. Air was filled with water vapor; Christian being in every single particle. How does he do to always disturb me, even when he's not there?<p>

I observed the room: it was spacious and magnificent. The predominant colors were marine blue and white and the ground was entirely tiled. There was not only a huge bathtub with hundreds of buttons in the corner, but also a modern shower and two sinks whose pipework was copper. Everything was luxurious and immaculate; one could lick the toilet seat without getting any bacteria. (I didn't do it though.)  
>After a few minutes, I somehow succeeded in clearing my thoughts and put on my clean clothes. By the bye, where was my sportswear? I would have to ask Mr. I-Take-Your-Stuff-So-You're-Forced-To-Meet-Me-Again, because I won't let him play the same card a second time.<br>I checked the clock: 9:30 pm. Phew! At least, I didn't stay here the whole night. However, I 'slept' more or less half an hour… I'm wondering what knocked me out that much. GHB doesn't make you faint, right? It makes you forget, right? Right?!

Once dressed, I hesitated to open the door. What will I do? What will I say? _Ana, look. If he wanted to rape you, it's done. If he wanted to kill you, it would be done._ _So what are you scared of? He's not going to eat you._ The verbs 'rape' and 'kill' made me feel nauseous. But I don't think he's the kind of guy who would fuck a girl when she's unconscious. He's too proud. He surely wants to see the girl come thanks to him, screaming his name… He is not a psychopath, I am cer… I am certain.  
>For once, my reason –looking at me with pity- didn't say anything. She probably noticed that it wasn't the moment to destroy my positivity. Nonetheless, I could clearly see Valentina through her.<br>I had a lump in my throat, but she somehow gave me back some courage. I had to face him.  
>I resolutely activated the latch, swallowed, and opened the door.<br>I could hear Christian's bewitching voice –almost screaming- coming from the bedroom. I moved forward cautiously and stopped in front of the door, which was ajar.  
>I was able to eavesdrop a few parts of his telephone conversation.<p>

"What?! It was you?" … "Damn! I can't **fucking** believe it!" … "You know what I mean." … "Yes, but I **demand** to be warned!"

His tone was severe and harsh; he was furious. He paused during several seconds and then sighed.

"No, she probably ran away." he said with a mix of bitterness, exasperation and… disappointment?

Is he talking about me? 'Ran away'? _Yeah, any normal person would have tried to escape. You chose the bathroom; I don't blame you_.  
>I realized it was true: I haven't even tried to go out. Worse, I chose the bathroom because of him, because of his perfume. I thought it was for the lock but in fact, he hypnotized me. Once again, my body betrayed me. The culprit in question was looking at me apologetically.<br>I decided to enter to show myself.  
>I found him in the middle of the room, frowning, his jaw tense. When he saw me, his mouth half-opened and he raised his eyebrows. I could hear Christian's interlocutor screaming through the Samsung Galaxy S5 but Mr. Hotness ignored him and hung up.<p>

"You're here…" he stated in a whisper.

I nodded in silence. His features loosened and during a short moment, he appeared to be happy to see me.  
>His molten grey eyes were staring at me deeply but he seemed to be conflicted for an unknown reason. An indescribable glint crossed his eyes and then he spoke again bossily.<p>

"You have to go."

I was surprised by his sudden change of tone and posture. Nevertheless, my body didn't need one second to adapt itself.

"Yes… uh, I'm just taking my bag…" I said timidly as I lowered my eyes, adopting a perfect submissive behavior.

Apparently, it pleased him because his voice became hoarser when he guided me.

"It's over there, on the bar."

I hastened to cross the room to seize my belongings. It wasn't difficult to follow his orders —I was born this way— but I would have preferred him to tell me to stay.  
>I headed for the door but stopped when I heard a clinking behind me. I turned around and saw him waiting, his bunch of keys in his left hand.<p>

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"I'm coming with you." he said stone-faced.

"Why…?" I started, but realized I didn't want to hear his explanation; it was out of the question. "No!"

"Yes. It is too late to hang around alone."

"I'm not gonna **hang around**; I'll directly go back to my bedroom."

"Don't play with words," he threatened me.

I sighed. The soft Christian is definitely gone.

"Christian, I'm big enough to protect myself for fifteen minutes, at 9:30 pm, on a university campus," I argued, exasperated.

What he didn't understand was that he was the only one I was afraid of.

"It's 9:49."

"Oh okaaayyy, it changes everything! I had forgotten that monsters were out only from 9:45 pm!" I almost shouted, rolling my eyes.

I was about to leave when he caught my left shoulder –forcing me to turn over— and pushed me against the door. Even if I was making strides to stand up to him, he was now too close for me to look at him in the eyes. I could feel his body heat imprisoning me like a net, but the alarm signal from my brain was reduced to silence by the wellness this feeling produced for me. I couldn't move. I didn't want to move.

"Anastasia, look at me,." he ordered, lifting my chin with two fingers.

I slowly looked up, hoping the magnetism would work to help me. His gaze was incandescent and his pupils were widely dilated despite the surrounding light.

"First of all, I know this place better than you. If I tell you that it is not safe to be out at this time of night, there is a reason and you don't want to know it. Second, **don't** roll your eyes in front of me. Third, **obey** for fuck's sake!"

I started on his last words. He was scaring me. I wanted to escape. But I also wanted to kiss him; his lips —even stiff as currently— were so attractive. They almost got the better of me.  
>I wanted to be angry but I was too hungry and exhausted for that.<p>

"Yes, sir," I capitulated.

I tried to be sarcastic on the 'sir' but it didn't sound like I wanted it to.  
>He tilted his head to one side, screwed up his eyes and began to curiously probe me to detect I-don't-know-what. After a few seconds, it was too awkward and uncomfortable for me to hold his stare so I looked away nervously.<br>He stepped back and I realized I had held my breath so far.

"After you," he said.

I opened the door and dived into the darkness.

The journey to Hamilton went in silence, Christian walking at my side. His constant inspection of the area showed me he wasn't at ease but he was displaying a determined expression. What does stress him that much? Me getting attacked or him being seen with me? I had millions of questions to ask but it seemed never to be the moment.  
>We passed nobody, there was neither threat nor danger, but his pace was so fast that I almost had to run and it was wearing me out. I should've said no. I felt tears rushing to my eyes. That's what happens when I'm too tired: the least one can do makes me cry. <em>A hypothetic rape isn't the least one can do<em>. Thanks for reminding me that!  
>The salty fluid was silently streaming down my face as we were finally reaching the building.<br>He mechanically opened the door like a gentleman but didn't pay attention to me; he was too busy scrutinizing around.  
>I entered and quickly headed for my room without waiting for Christian. I just wanted to be away from him; I wanted to indulge in crying and try to fix my thoughts, which were muddled since my waking.<br>Predictably enough, he rejoined me when I was still looking for my key. The pressure created by his gaze on me was the straw that broke the camel's back. I burst into tears.

"Hey! What's wrong?" Christian asked, concerned.

He was gently trying to force me to look at him but I rejected him.

"No… no… nothing… That's f… fine. Don't… don't touch me. Pl…please go." I stammered.

He ignored my remark, took my key out of my hand and then opened the door. I didn't want him to enter; I wanted him to leave!  
>My exhaustion tears turned into rage tears. He thinks he can do whatever he wants… <em><strong>You<strong>__ let him do what he wants_. But **how the hell** can I rival?! He uses his fucking influence on me and his fucking strength to compel me to do what he's expecting from me!  
>As if he wanted to proof what I had just said, he took me by the hand and pulled me inside.<p>

"Let me alone," I somehow ordered as Mr. Anger was drying my tears.

"I will not leave until I'm sure you're fine," he told me unwaveringly.

Since when does he care?

"Sit down," he instructed me.

I tried to remove my hand from his grip but he tightened his hold. My lacrimal glands chose this moment to let me down.

"I… I have… I've…" My sobbing was making me hiccup and I was wondering if it would end up passing.

"Anastasia, calm down. Please, calm down." he begged.

He cupped my face and his eyes were desperately looking for mine. These were now light grey –mellow and breathtaking- encouraging me to talk.

"What's wrong?"

"Christian, I've done… I've done everything you wanted… Please…" I pleaded with him, unable to stop crying.

He released me, frowned and then his face darkened.

"It's **me** who makes you cry," He stated.

His look was vacant; he seemed downhearted and confused.

"No, no, no…" I shook my head, lying to try to reassure him.

I was feeling so stupid right now. What kind of girl cries when the most beautiful man in the planet takes care of her? _An idiot_. Yes… I had to relax, but for that, I had to know the truth. Valentina's face was still haunting me.

"You did not answer my question earlier…" I began.

He concentrated back on me with an impenetrable gaze.

"Did we… did you do something?" I swallowed.

My cheeks were on fire and looking at him was impossible; I was so ashamed.

"Is that what you think? That I raped you?" he asked.

"I… I don't know what to think. I don't know you and… I don't remember anything."

"Because there is nothing to remember. I can't…" he sighed. "I can't believe you think I'd do that."

His tone was reproachful and tinged with disdain.  
>Of course. How could I think during one second that he would like to have sex with me? My heart became uncomfortably heavy.<p>

"I'm sorry." I apologized. "I… absolutely don't know why I thought…" I blinked back tears, embarrassed.

"Wait, are you doubting your sex appeal?" he cut me, reading me like an open book.

"It was stupid… Forget what I said." I shook my head, avoiding his question and his inquisitive gaze.

"Anastasia," he came closer to me and leaned to murmur in my ear "when I will fuck you, you will not be able to walk for two days."

_Oh My!_ My kinky side woke up in a start while my eyes opened wide and met Christian's indecent stare. It was so rude but I liked it so much. His husky voice had the effect of a lust bomb: my body shook in anticipation, I got wet **down there** and butterflies took my lower abdomen by storm. He said 'when'. Not 'if'. _Yeeeehaaa!_

His–now almost black—eyes shuttled back and forth between mine and my mouth. It paralyzed my mind but I felt my hips seductively wave despite myself. His pelvis responded immediately and joined mine, unveiling Christian's impressive erection through his jeans. _Wow!_ It can't be thanks to me, I can't be the cause of…  
>His lips touched mine a split second. (My brain is officially in the recovery room but I don't think it will get by.)<br>He slightly moved away and stared at me with vehemence. He was clearly asking for permission and it surprised me. He was not the kind of man who acts like that; he doesn't ask, he **takes**.  
>The seductress in me–unknown so far- deliberately bit her lower lip as an authorization, curious and excited to test its effect again. <em>It's called suicide!<em>  
>Christian's body tensed automatically, and before I could prepare myself, his lips crashed into mine. <em>Damn!<em> He sucked… licked… snatched my lips before forcing them apart with his tongue. Because no attempt to repulse him was conceivable… _And because that's what you were craving_. Yes, and because that's what I was craving, I let him in and my tongue began to dance with his timidly. Ere long, he took me by the nape of my neck to deepen his kiss. He was harsh but I didn't care, it was too good. Wild waves of desire were washing over me. In two minutes, he made me experience sadness, anger, distress, lust and intense pleasure. This man is driving me mad.  
>When I began to run out of air, I started back and he gently bit my lower lip to cling to me. When my back touched the wall next to the door, he went away to let me breathe but stayed very close, imprisoning me between his two arms.<p>

"Will you come to the party on Friday?" he jerkily whispered, catching his breath.

After such a kiss, it would have been crazy to refuse. (He knew it.) I hadn't a lot of comparison elements, but I **knew** it was a great one. My thoughts were still as mixed up as earlier but I was in a bit of a haze; dazzled by him.

"Yes…" I murmured.

I didn't know it yet, but for my mental health, I should've said no.

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><p><strong>I hope you liked it, let me your impressions! See you soon for the rest... :)<strong>


	5. Beautiful Eyes

**Bonjour tout le monde! :D Here's chapter 5!  
><strong>**WARNING: THE CHAPTER HASN'T BEEN EDITED. I sent it to my beta one month ago and since that day, I haven't heard from her… (I decided to post anyway otherwise you will all forget about me! :p I'll update once I receive the corrected one.)**

**Reviewers: THANK YOUUU!**  
><strong>- To all who have answered my latest question, thank you very much! I'll do the best I can.<strong>  
><strong>- Kathy: haha I didn't mean to scare you! I won't spoil but don't worry too much… ^^<strong>  
><strong>- donnins23: So sweet! :) Thanks!<strong>

**I hope you'll enjoy this chapter but once again, I remind you that I don't know how a US university works so I kind of turned it into a European one hahaha (and just in case you were still confused with that term, an Erasmus student is an international student, but only in Europe. In the US, I think there's something called the Magellan Network, right? I just don't want to change the title now, it's too late... Forgive me!)**

**Characters belong to the fantastic E. L. James.**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 5 – Beautiful Eyes<span>

We are Friday 7th. Tonight, it is the famous party. The party I finally accepted to go to since Kate, Cheryl, Paul, Olivia and Chad had asked me to come. Or rather: they demanded that I came. Furthermore, **I said 'yes'**. I remembered the incredible kiss Christian and I exchanged as if it was yesterday. But it is not the case.

Indeed, I haven't seen him for six days, and each second that passes increases my stress at the idea to see him again. Although I was more than relieved that nothing happened between him and the unconscious me, I had a knot in my stomach since he had left my room that evening –and honestly, I didn't know if it was shame, apprehension or excitement.  
>Shame because I was surely a horrible kisser since my experience is bordering on nothingness. (I am used to being the friend, not the benefit.) I'm dreading his reaction… what if he is despising or jeering?<br>Apprehension because events were slipping from me and I had the foreboding that my trip was turning into something too serious, too deep, due to him and all those mysteries which were kind of haunting me.  
>Excitement because I had to admit it: I was itching to see him again. Each time I was thinking of him, my body was like a volcano ready to explode. Even if I knew he wouldn't, I had hoped that Christian would text me and I hated me for that. He was so sweet, so perfect when he left that evening… Damn, why am I already so obsessed by him after only one week? This is crazy!<p>

"Anaaaa, stop daydreaming, we're late!" Kate –who came back this morning- shook her hand in front of my eyes.

"Oops, sorry!" I came back down to earth.

This week, having my head in the clouds had become my favorite –undesirable- activity. He was always in my mind and it caused some damages like… my tray falling to the ground after I jostled someone in the refectory, my change of clothes forgotten in the cloakroom, and so on… Well, being away from him isn't a success for me. _Being close to him isn't either_.

However, when Christian wasn't monopolizing my brain, I did useful things. I visited the campus deeply, went to the sports complex several times and learned to know Kate's friends. I was slowly beginning to grasp their personality and I wasn't disappointed. They were all very sympathetic, although I still had some reservations towards Paul. I had tried to disregard my bad feelings but even if he was kind, it sounded odd. Maybe we're just not made to get along. (Given my inability to have male friends, the contrary would've been surprising.)

"Chad and Olivia are waiting for us outside, are you almost ready?" Kate asked.

She was unable to stand still. Obviously, partying was really her thing. She looked stunning in her tiny red sheath dress which matched with her glamorous lipstick. In comparison with her, I was feeling under-dressed in my electric blue summer dress –although she assured me I was looking perfect-, but something told me that Kate was always **over**-dressed.

"Yes, you can join them; I'll be there in one minute!" I smiled as she nodded and left the room.

How can she be so fast? She needed five minutes to be spruce whereas it wasn't even enough time for me to put on my clothes. I guess her job helps.

I fastened my hair in a high loose ponytail, applied a touch of gloss and put dangling earrings whose patterns brought out those on my round neckline. I then seized my little black shoulder bag and left the room, taking care to lock the door behind me.  
>When I stepped outside, I was bombarded by compliments from my new friends, now including Cheryl. Them speaking together created a hubbub but I succeeded in hearing the words 'cute', 'pretty' and 'sexy' (from Chad, and of course, it made me blush).<p>

"Thank you guys, it's so sweet! You're beautiful too!"

Indeed, they all looked classy and radiant.

"Paul will meet us in the house," Olivia advised.

"Fine. Let's go to the party then!" exclaimed Kate.

Everybody agreed and we headed for the aforementioned Greek house.

The journey took more or less half an hour because we met different people on the way. I didn't know them but they seemed very excited, very friendly and also very drunk. They all warmly hugged me and some boys kissed me on the cheek. One of them, Aaron, had his right arm on my shoulders and his body heat was welcome given the coolness. He looked like a surfer: tall, suntanned, blond and brawny. Actually, he was pretty hot. He could've been as intimidating as Christian if he wasn't that cheerful and teasing. He made me at ease.

"Let me guess… a satin, oh no, a frilly thong!" he proposed, trying to figure out what I was wearing as underwear.

His suppositions made me laugh.

"Why frilly?"

"Ha HA! You don't deny about the thong! Little minx…" he knowingly smiled.

"Who tells you I'm not wearing XL flowered panties?"

"I know it because if I do this…" he stroked my butt in a flash. "... I won't feel any seam. Indeed!" he exulted while running away from me to avoid the punch he thought I would give him.

If he knew me, he would know that I'm too docile to do that unless I'm angry. So, I merely giggled. He came back next to me when he realized there was no danger.

"That's what I said: minx! You're beautiful," he said with a charming smile but his eyes were glassy.

"You're drunk," I stated.

The story of my life…

"I'm serious," he tried to convince me but his guffaw made him lose any credibility.

He began to speak –I mean, yell- with the others but I was already miles away. Even if I exteriorized rarely, I wasn't mocking-proof. I knew his blood alcohol level defended him but I couldn't help feeling hurt.

I looked up at the amazing sky full of stars and immediately found the Ursa Major. This constellation is my favorite; I associated it with God since it was always there, shiny and majestic. I suddenly thought about my life in Belgium… my family, my friends, my horse… I miss them. Hopefully, that feeling will ease when the academic year will officially begin.

Eventually, we went out of the campus and arrived in front of a huge white mansion whose entrance porch was impressive. Four columns proudly supported the three Greek letters associated with the fraternity organizer. _Wow_. Am I in a movie?  
>I congratulated myself for choosing ballerina pumps instead of high heels given the unevenness of the ground. (Kate, as for her, had no difficulty.) 'Security guys' checked our student cards and then let us enter.<p>

The party was already in full swing: people were dancing like crazy and the room was crowded. Instantly, the lively music began to titillate my limbs. I **love** dancing. However, before allowing myself to move, I took one second to contemplate the place. This seemed to be made for soirées. There was a huge kind of pit surrounded by several podiums of different levels. A stage supported a big turn table and three over-active DJs, illuminated by spotlights and a giant screen hanging behind them.

Just when I thought that it was practically impossible to find someone here –which meant that I had a considerable chance not to cross Christian-, I saw him. He was standing with four other muscled boys on a platform and they were all looking at me. Their gazes were so piercing and unblinking that it made me shudder. Christian was by far the sexiest, especially under that weak lighting which made him even gloomier. Nevertheless, his attitude confirmed my doubts: he seemed disgusted and angry. So, shame finally won the tierce and I suddenly felt oppressed, not helped by the muggy atmosphere. What's wrong with me? Since my early adolescence, I had hoped that I had a problem only with Europeans but obviously, I was hated **worldwide**.

When nausea was about to overwhelm me, Aaron grabbed my arm and took me with him.

"Ana, come on!" he screamed.

Before we rushed into the mad crowd, I glimpsed bodybuilder-1, bodybuilder-2, bodybuilder-3 and bodybuilder-4 looking daggers at Christian while this one was staring at me with stupefaction. Reaching the bar to join the rest of the group wasn't an easy task but we made it. When she saw me, Kate –who was standing against the counter- caught my hand to attract me to her.

"What do you wanna drink?" she yelled in my ear to be heard over the loud music.

One could choose between beer and its derivatives, different kinds of vodka and tequila shots.

"Tequila, please," I ordered.

"Okay," she nodded. "Gimme ten tequila shots, two red vodkas and five beers," she asked the waiter.

Kate handed out the drinks; unsurprisingly, beers were for boys.

"Wait, is that all for me?" I asked her because she had given me three shots.

"Of course! You're not gonna drink only one shot, I won't let it happen!" she said with a large smile before raising her tiny glass. We drank in one go and then headed for the dance floor.

The music was so great that we didn't stop dancing for the next hour. I was very surprised when I heard a remixed version of Stromae's _'Papaoutai_'. Like each time a Belgian succeeded in doing something big, I felt truly happy for them. My home country is so small that most of us feel close to our compatriots like we were personal friends. (I mean, when they become famous… Yes, **only** when they become famous.) It made me think of the euphoria created by the Red Devils at the FIFA World Cup… and our victory against the USA. The hate messages on Twitter even made the King quake, because having that world power as enemy isn't a good plan. (Note to self: avoid broaching that subject.)  
>So, as it was my turn to pick up the drinks, I headed for the bar humming and bouncing.<p>

I was about to order the alcohols when someone placed their hand in my lower back. **That** touch. It electrified my whole body and let me speechless. The waiter was hanging at my lips, waiting for me to say something.

"A beer and…," began Christian's bass voice. "You like tequila, right?" he asked me.

I turned around to face him and my brain took a few seconds to reconnect. He was so handsome that I wondered if it was legal. My judgment was a bit distorted by ethanol but I wasn't drunk; I know when to stop. Unlike a lot of students nowadays, I don't need that to have a good time. By the bye, I didn't plan to order anything else for me… but it was impossible to turn him down.

"Yes…" I nodded.

"Three shots," he finished.

"But… I have to order for my friends…" I added shyly.

"Okay. What do they want?"

I quickly delivered the long list of drinks and began to look for the tickets in my little bag. He immobilized my wrist.

"It's for me."

He was smiling but I knew there was no possibility to negotiate, so I let him pay. Well, 'pay' wasn't the right word because the barman didn't demand anything. Since it is 'his' party, I guess he drinks for free.

I was looking at his angelic profile when a spot lighted up his face, and I noticed with horror that he was injured. There was a wound on his right eyebrow arch and a yellow-purple bruise covered his eye contour. He undoubtedly got a black eye.

"What happened?" I slightly touched his eyebrow.

I immediately removed my hand when he grimaced and flinched in recoil.

"Nothing important," he said curtly.

"Sorry…" I hastened to apologize.

When he took the floor again, his voice was softer.

"That's okay," he found new happiness. "Are you enjoying the party?"

"Yea, it's great," I somehow smiled but I couldn't help staring at his hematoma.

Who did that to him? Why? If it was during a fight, his opponent had to be one of these bodybuilders because given Christian's muscles, I was stunned that he could be banged-up. Or is it a girl? That thought should have made me ruthless but it didn't. _My poor, you're already critically touched_.

"You're beautiful tonight," he complimented me.

_Oh mon Dieu_. My heart skipped a beat. Has he just said I was beautiful? He had to be damned drunk. I had to be damned red right now. I wanted to ask him to repeat it but I fiercely bit my lower lip to refrain myself. Please, say it again!

"Tttt, don't!"

He released my lip with his thumb, liberating at the same time the flood of words I had held back.

"What?Areyouserious?Youaredrunk?PleasesayitagainThankyouSorry!" I debited at extra full speed in front of a dumbstruck Christian.

_Putain Ana!_ My dignity hid in a hole and I really wanted to follow her but she refused categorically. I placed my hand on my mouth while he amusingly giggled, happy with his effect.

"You. Are. Beautiful. Yes, I'm serious. No, I'm not drunk," he calmly answered, a smile in the voice.

My embarrassment was so painful that I seriously wondered if ridicule couldn't kill, after all. An exit! Please, an exit! _Richard The Caretaker should have a stool and a rope._ Shut up.

"I have to meet up with my friends," I quickly told him.

"I'm coming with you."

As if he had seen my reluctance, he pointed his beautiful eyes at me like he was a vampire using his power to convince me. Well, I didn't know if he was a vampire but he **definitely had** that power. He got the better of me; I sighed and nodded. After all, the last time I capitulated when he said that, it was worth it.  
>I turned around and when he placed his hands on my hips, I almost dropped the tray.<p>

"I follow you," he leaned over my left shoulder and murmured in my ear.

I breathed deeply and stepped onto the mob.

I thought I would struggle to make my way through the crowd, but it was without taking Christian's aura into account. People were moving aside to let him pass as if he was the President –whereas he's not even the President of the fraternity! I first thought it was fear but when I observed girls more attentively, I realized that it wasn't fear at all. It was something between adoration, desire and jealousy. I supposed it was due to Christian's hands –still on my hips- and it made me ill-at-ease; I've never meant to draw the attention on me! I ignored them as better as I could and didn't stop walking until I reached my destination.

When we joined the rest of the group, they all looked at each other with wide eyes and then focused on us, disbelieving. Please, not them! _What did you expect?_ After one awkward minute, they grinned but it wasn't an affectionate smile. It was a why-the-hell-did-you-bring-him-here smile. Kate turned into the perfect bitch she could be and stared at him with scorn. Cheryl and Olivia adopted the same behavior but I could see their feminine solidarity wasn't strong enough not to succumb to Mr. Hotness Grey in less than two minutes. Gina, as for her, didn't even try to resist; she was literally dribbling in front of him. _She makes me think of you._ Thank you.

"Christian offers…" I said with a contrite smile, trying to slacken the atmosphere.

Paul, Chad, Aaron, Travis and Ryan loosened up first, too glad to drink for free.

"Thanks, man!" they exclaimed in unison, grasping their beers.

As I guessed, girls followed quickly. Except Kate, who shouted at me.

"Steele, with me."

_Shit_. Before following her, I glanced at Christian but he was already busy charming girls and getting on with boys. Kate pulled me far from them, in a nook of the room, and began to scream.

"Did you lose your head?! What is this asshole doing with us? Didn't you hear a single word I said last week?!"

Her eyes were on fire, she wasn't happy at all.

"Kate, I'm sorry!"

"No, you're not! What did this jerk say to make you lose any commonsense?! I thought you were smarter than that!"

Well, how to explain?

"Kate, calm down. I just let him follow me as he paid our drinks."

"And why did you let this jackass pay our drinks?!"

"Hey! Stop calling him every name under the sun," I defended him.

"I call this **son of a bitch** whatever I want!"

Okay, we're not home and dried yet.

"Kate, listen. There was no reason to refuse; he was very nice to me."

"Of course he was!"

"**Perhaps** he just wants to socialize and have a great time!" I ignored her remark and continued my plea; not sure why, though…

"That's not his style," she stated, categorical.

"Well, maybe he wants to change!"

"Change? Ha Ha Ha, let me laugh!" she said ironically. _One point for Kate. Are you hearing yourself? You didn't find something more cliché than 'change'?_ "I remind you that **θβΩ** **boys** raped Valy! It may be him!"

"But it could be anybody else as well! Let him one chance," I asked her (okay, it might have seemed like I was begging her actually).

She thought of it during a few seconds and finally gave up.

"Okay, I give him **one** chance. But if his insatiable dick plays up, I'll kill you **both**!" she yelled, threatening me with her forefinger.

I really wanted to burst out laughing but her looking so serious had something terrifying.

"Don't worry, he will be proper," I reassured her, praying not to be wrong.

"He'd better," she grumbled.

When we came back to the group, they were taking part in a 'down-in-one' game. The goal was to drink five beers as fast as possible. Chad, challenging Aaron, had the advantage and eventually won.

"Yeeaaah!" he exulted, wiping his mouth with the back of the hand.

"It doesn't count, you cheated! I want my revenge!" Aaron invoked, bad loser.

"Fourth round: Christian against Chad!" Gina announced.

"It's unfair, he always wins!" Aaron complained, but seized his first glass anyway.

And what had to happen happened: Christian won hands down.

"Wooow! Five additional points for Christian, who's won each round he was involved in so far!" said Olivia with excitement. "Who will depose him?"

"Me," I volunteered.

_What?! _Trust me.

All eyes trained on me but I could only see Christian's. Beautiful grey eyes. I realized his name suited him perfectly. He offered me an astonishing crooked smileand a glint of defiance illuminated his look.

"You're not serious, Ana!" Ryan guffawed.

"Cheryl tried, and she didn't even finish her first beer!" Travis added.

Christian didn't say anything, but his stare betrayed the fact that he was thinking the same. Mr. Alcohol and me succeeded in looking at him intently, affirming that I was ready and totally earnest.

"Well, let's go then. Fifth round: Christian against Ana!"

"I will not let you win," Christian warned me.

"Me neither," I replied confidently.

He screwed up his eyes but we both seized our first drink in the right hand and waited for Gina to give the start signal.  
>And what had to happen happened: I won hands down. <strong>Never<strong> underestimate a Belgian at this kind of game. Well, 'hands down' is maybe a bit exaggerated. He finished less than one second after me and if we had had to continue he would've won because I have no endurance and I kind of cheated since I was born in a country where beer is a specialty **but**… this time, I won!

"Baaaaaam! Well done, Ana!" Chad cheerfully congratulated me, instantly copied by the others but Christian.

Kate was jubilating more than ever whereas my sexy opponent was looking at me, immobile and incredulous.

"You avenged us!" Aaron felicitated me. "You suck, Grey! She made short work of you!"

The concerned party was unnaturally calm and even if I knew Aaron was kidding, that fact that Christian didn't react to the criticism scared me. Although I didn't know him very well, I could say that he was likely the type of guy to take it badly. Furthermore, I didn't know how many beers he had already gulped down… As for me, I realized that my current number of ingested drinks was largely exceeding my habits. Nothing too serious, –I was just more joyful-, but I promised myself not to drink anymore tonight.

Christian moistened his lips sensuously and the expression in his eyes changed from competitiveness to fiery desire as he was getting closer to me. Since when is being beaten at a stupid drinking game an aphrodisiac?! He's incredible… _et j'adore ça!_  
>Once he was in front of me, he silently examined me, dwelling on my bust and then on my lips. When I decided to itemize him as well, I signed my own death warrant. Watching him ogling me was absolutely erotic. His look was so penetrating and his expression so crude that I thought my whole body would ignite from the inside. I was so focused on his body that I barely saw the others leaving to reach the dance floor.<p>

Five minutes later, the tension between us was so unbearable that I decided to speak. Actually, I apologized, because I was feeling like I had to. _Oh my God, you're a lost cause._

"Sorry," I told him, however struggling to hide my smile.

"Fair point. I'm impressed."

He offhandedly presented his right hand for me to shake it. I naïvely and spontaneously placed my hand in his and before I could say 'Oh!' he was standing behind me, my back against his torso.

"I don't like to lose," he murmured in my ear, enunciating every word.

Breathless, I didn't move. (But he was holding me too fiercely to, anyway.)

"You owe me something. A dinner. Next Monday?"

Typical Grey rule. And of course, that wasn't a real question. Since he would never have released me if I had resisted, I gave in once again.

"Yes," I agreed.

_**Pardon?!**__ Are you taking yourself for Jim Carrey in 'Yes Man'?!  
><em>Indeed, my answer had the power to free me after he briefly kissed me under the ear. His lips on my skin made my head spin. Christian + booze = nothing good.

"Ana, come on! It's time to daaaancee!" Chad called out to me, which made me recover some consistence.

"Yep!" I joyfully nodded.

Before following him, I turned towards Christian and saw him frowning, seemingly vexed.

"What?" I asked.

"He calls you Ana."

"That's my name…" I pointed out to him.

"No, it's Anastasia Rose Steele. You've never told me to call you Ana."

Well, that was exactly why I didn't want him to call me Ana. The way he was pronouncing my entire name was totally obscene and it woke up the resident butterflies of my stomach. Nevertheless, how does he know my middle name? One more question on the list. Grey, be ready for a true questioning on Monday!

"Please, call me Ana," I sarcastically replied, rolling my eyes.

A lightning crossed his eyes, he fiercely caught my jawbone and then kissed me in a flash, as bluntly as impulsively. _Bloody Hell._

"Don't be impertinent. I hate that, **Ana**," he reprimanded me with a scowl.

His threat had no effect on me; I was in shock. As were their habit, his lips let me shaken: my heart was beating like crazy and my legs instantly became jelly. But his words were in contradiction with his acts; a kiss can't be a punishment, no matter how rough it may be. Truly, this man must have too many estrogens to be that complicated. (I really wonder where they're hidden though.)  
>I cautiously glanced around, dreading a potential –but inevitable- reaction of Mr. Hotness' groupies. Surprisingly, nobody seemed to have seen what had just happened. Although it lasted a very short time, I was sure it was real. I licked my lips to check it and indeed, I could savor Christian's intoxicating taste. My whole body began to combust and it was only a matter of time for me to be no more than water and carbon dioxide. Furthermore, my reason had to be as stunned as me because she didn't say anything like '<em>This bastard isn't your master! He has no right to tell you how to behave!<em>'.

I recovered when Christian's fingers –still immobilizing my face- became painful. Unexpectedly, there seemed to be a threshold from which his touch didn't release dopamine anymore. As he still appeared to be angry, I apologized.

"I'm sorry…" I struggled to articulate and looked down.

"No, look at me," he ordered, holding my chin higher.

I wanted to listen to him but his posture was clearly commanding me the opposite. Contradictory signals. Again.  
>After weighing the consequences, I decided to follow his voice. His beautiful silver-grey eyes didn't make me regret my choice: they captured mine and made me forget the Universe.<p>

"I'm serious. If you don't want to get into trouble, avoid being insolent. Did I make myself clear?"

He was speaking very distinctly and his words were full of meaning. However, although his tone was menacing, the wrinkle which was crossing his forehead and his frown eyebrows were betraying something else. Apprehension? It was difficult to decipher given the colorful spotlights that were randomly and discontinuously lighting his face. (But it's not like he was an open book anyway.)  
>Actually, I was totally lost. The only thing I knew was that <strong>yes<strong>, he made himself clear. But why does he make a point of honor to tell me that and make sure I understand at 2am during a student party?! Instead of philosophizing about that question, I added it to the list for Monday interrogation.

"Yes, very clear," I finally answered.

After his pupils assessed mine to detect a potential lie, he released my chin and my head fell heavily. I passed my right hand on the nape of my neck –sore because of the prolonged twitching- to try to ease the pain.  
>When he noticed my ache, an imperceptible lightning of worry crossed his cloudy irises and he tenderly kissed my jugular vein. I didn't try to interpret the signification of this buss because it probably had none. Or in any case, not an obvious one. This man is impenetrable… However, my muscles relaxed as if by magic.<br>Yes, this man is **definitely** impenetrable.

* * *

><p>During the next hour, us girls danced non-stop. Sometimes provocatively, sometimes crazily, sometimes sensuously, sometimes composedly, but never very seriously. We were having a great time.<br>Boys were calmer, nodding in rhythm but that was all. And this is great, because if there's something I dislike, it is boys who dance. I mean, the guy in Step Up is obviously okay, but the ones who gesticulate like fools are pathetic.  
>Christian didn't attempt anything to get closer to me again, but he was constantly watching me. I would've loved to have had enough shots not to care about his stare anymore, but it wasn't the case. One can't say that he didn't try to help me since he almost proposed me a glass every three minutes, but I've declined each time so far. A promise is a promise. However, even if it didn't reduce their pressure, I was beginning to ignore his beautiful eyes like a pro.<p>

I was (finally) feeling (a bit) comfortable with Christian until Beyoncé struck up her explicit song '_Partition'_. The French part sent me impure thoughts that made me blush and I unfortunately didn't succeed in chasing them before Christian noticed it.

"Tell me what she says," he asked me suavely.

"I'm sure you have an idea," I retorted.

"Oh I do; I just want to hear it from your mouth," he admitted, brushing my lips with his thumb.

I had to force myself not to lick it. He extended his touch and was now fondling my neck, tracing my jugular vein.  
>I needed all the courage of the world but I finally managed to think straight and translated.<p>

"Do you like sex? Sex, I mean, the physical activity…"

I stopped. No, impossible. I was so febrile with his hands on me that I was wondering if I could actually survive this.

"Continue," he ordered.

Okay, possible.

"Coitus… you like that? You're not interested in sex? Men think that feminists hate sex but it is a very stimulating and natural activity that women adore."

Christian first lustfully stared at me and then a small smile took shape on his face; as for me, I immediately looked down.

"My answer to all your questions is yes."

What? My… No!

"Those are not **my** questions!" I promptly looked up, outraged.

"Well, I was sure to have heard you asking me if I liked sex…" he teased me.

Tom is back! Aaaargh, I knew it already but this time it is crystal clear: I **hate** cats!

"**Beyoncé** asked you if you liked sex," I stood up to him as much as I could.

"I'll show you one day… how I like **sex**," he murmured in my ear, ignoring my previous comment.

His tendentious words killed my repartee and made blood rush to my cheeks. _Damn it!_ Although he was perfectly aware of his impact on me, he adopted a nonchalant stance and placed one arm around my neck, like we were close friends without any ambiguity. But both assumptions were false.

I was getting tired of our stressful and embarrassing conversations. Was it possible to have a normal discussion with this man? It was too much. I wasn't at ease anymore and it was spoiling the party. I wanted to dance like a fool and laugh with the others but Christian was always there, suffocating my freedom and my insouciance. But he wasn't the only one. People around us were constantly surveying our movements, like paparazzi ready to take to latest scandalous photo. Mr. Hotness was an expert at ignoring them but I obviously needed more experience because their gazes were slowly driving me crazy.  
>I had to go. I couldn't count on Kate because it was my entire fault, so I constructed an evasion plan on my own. Since I had never been a very creative person, I drew my inspiration from books I had read and chose the toilet-trap.<p>

"I have to pee, I'll be right back," I informed Kate, who was next to me.

Kate looked at me suspiciously and when she smiled knowingly, I knew she had uncovered my underlying motivations.

"Okay, we won't move," she said naturally.

I silently thanked her and checked up on Christian but he was too caught up in debating politics with Travis that he didn't see me leaving the group.  
>I took my time to reach the restrooms in order not to draw attention on me but once inside, I quickly locked myself in a cabin and breathed. He can't enter here. Moreover, there's an exit door which enables me to avoid the main room. Perfect.<p>

Despite the door and the loud music, I managed to catch a conversation between two younger girls.

"Have you seen Christian Grey?"

"Who hasn't?! He's sexy as hell!"

Ugh… I cannot do other than approve. My body was already begging for his proximity.

"Totes! By the bye, Ellen told everybody she'd have him in her bed tonight. She's such a slut."

"Not a scoop. Being intelligent and sleeping with Grey aren't compatible things. But it seems like she has some competition…"

"Yeah, there's that girl he's been sticking to like glue since the beginning of the party. You know her name?"

"Nope…"

Are they talking about me? _Of course they are! There aren't two Christian Grey, and the reason you're hidden here is his obsessive tendency to follow you._

"That's surely a bet because I don't know what he could like about her; she's so fucking banal."

"That's simple: he likes her pussy!" she concluded and they both burst out laughing.

I held my breath until I didn't feel any presence.

As I can see, rumors are rife. People are incredible. Why do they always have to find a reason for anything others do? Why do we have to have a reason for anything we feel? _'Bulletproof Picasso'_ from Train came to my mind and I rapidly forgot these existential interrogations. It was way too late to focus on anything.  
>Slightly groggy, I went out of the cabin and headed for a sink to refresh my face. The cold water did me good; clearing my thoughts. I was looking at myself in the mirror when I suddenly noticed Christian –standing in the door frame, arms folded. I could've spent hours describing his innate charm, his sexy jaw line, his unquestionable masculinity… if I wasn't dumbfounded by the <strong>traitor<strong> Kate was! I can't believe it! **Rrrrr!**

Anger-stricken, I rushed to the other exit to shake him off. Or at least, tr… You got it; once again, he pre-empted me. He grabbed my bicep to stop my movement.

"You're in the women restrooms, you mustn't be here!" I yelled.

"I don't care," he replied.

His look was determined and his hold firm. What to say? What to do? I was lost, and tired, and annoyed, and irrevocably attracted by him. My brain wasn't able to focus on anything else than his powerful hand on my arm. My skin in contact with his warm palm seemed to be straight connected to my –now wet- privates and it was exciting me more than it should have. When I sincerely contemplated to ask him to fuck me hard against the cobbled wall, I realized I **really** needed to go out.

"Can we… just… go out?"

"Yeah, sure," he immediately nodded.

I knew a 'we' would work better than an 'I'. In fact, he's quite easy-going, as long as you do whatever he wants… Okay, he's not easy-going at all.  
>He released me, and destabilized by the intense feeling of gap his touch had let, I took a few seconds to notice that he was waiting for me to precede him. Why does he have such an addictive effect on me?<br>I uncertainly stepped into the darkness and he followed me without a word.  
>Barely outside, I sat directly on the ground and folded up my knees against my chest. The cold wind made me shiver but breathing cool air had never been so welcomed. There was no one here and only the muffled sound of the music which exuded from the building was disturbing the quiet. I closed my eyes to ease my eyelids.<p>

"Are you okay?" Christian asked.

"Yes, I'm just tired."

"Then we should go back to Hamilton."

"We?"

He sighed.

"Will you always ask me why I have to accompany you?"

"Until you tell me why, yes."

"I've already told you it was too dangerous."

"But **why**?" I insisted. "Does it have something to do with Valentina?"

He grit his teeth and then looked away.

"I don't wanna talk about that," he said curtly.

"And **I** wanna talk about that!"

I was stunned by my own boldness. There wasn't the shadow of a doubt: Mr. Alcohol was behind this sudden daring. Docile… I remembered his words and realized I was definitely disobeying. Moreover, the fact that he didn't want to speak about Valy's disappearance should've worried me instead of pissed me. Is he really involved? It made my blood run cold.

"I thought you were tired!" he raised his tone, which made me startle.

I curled up a bit more and placed my right cheek on my knees, looking away from him. Who does he think he is? My father? My brother? He's nothing! I wanted to snap him and yell 'SCREW YOU!' but unfortunately, my state of inebriation wasn't high enough to surpass my fear and my submissiveness. If he's like that with every girl, then I'm surprised he didn't get more than a black eye!

When I was shaking so violently that my teeth were about to chatter, he talked.

"You're going to catch a cold if you stay here. We should whether go back inside or to Hamilton."

His voice was now low and smooth, as if he was trying to reassure a frightened animal. _It's almost that_.  
>I slowly looked up and stared at him a few seconds before seizing the hand he was holding out to get back on my feet. As usual, an electricity discharge occurred when our bodies entered in contact. Note to self: avoid touching him under the rain.<br>Since I wasn't motivated anymore, I chose the second option. My feet were hurting; I wanted to bury myself into the pillows and blankets of my loving bed so bad.  
>So, I didn't say anything and unhesitatingly headed for the path we took a few hours ago. Christian needed exactly one second and a half to notice I was leaving without him. I didn't care about him. He wanted to follow me? Alright. I was just going to pretend he wasn't there. <em>Easier said than done.<em> Don't hack me off!

As if he knew I was only **tolerating** his presence, he was walking aside of me, mute, hands in his pockets. It was really hard not to look at him. Actually, it was torture. But I had to resist, otherwise it would feed my starving desire, and I might not be responsible for my acts anymore.  
>I was experiencing the famous adage <em>'suis-moi je te fuis; fuis-moi je te suis'<em>. Indeed, the situation had backfired: he was the one ignoring the other best. Each time I quickly glanced at him, he was impassible like he was doing a boring job. I was dying to hear his sexy husky voice again, but there was no way I was going to start the conversation. I was dying to kiss him again, but there was no way **in hell** I was going to be forward.  
>And if the girls were right? And if it was a bet? And if he was forced to rub shoulders with me? The awful plausibility of this option created a knot in my stomach.<br>Ana, be strong. Only a few tens of meters left. I was already able to see the high red-bricked chimneys of Hamilton Hall.  
>When we arrived in front of the entrance door, I stopped and waited for him to leave.<p>

"You can go now…"

"Sure, I can."

Oh no, there we go again.

"Christian, go away," I said wickedly.

I hadn't a lot of sangfroid in stock anymore.

"What if I don't want to?"

"Then stay here!" I almost shouted.

I violently opened the door, hastened inside and then run to my bedroom. Thank God, it's located on the ground floor.  
>I heard Christian's steps behind me and it triggered a flood of adrenaline. I was about to close to door when he interposed himself between the door and the frame.<p>

"Ana, wait!"

Since his strength wasn't something you can easily ignore, I waited and he locked his molten grey eyes in mine. _Admit it, you just __**can't**__ refuse him anything._ Yes, it's true, but I was also curious to know what he had to say that was so important.  
>But he didn't say anything. And he didn't need to say anything: only his smoldering look could make my heart race and my panties wet. He might have put out feelers initially, but he was definitely –and successfully- trying to persuade me now.<p>

My vulva tensed in anticipation and of course, that didn't elude Christian, who immediately swooped on me like a predator. Our lips collided as violently as my back hit the wall. In no time, his tongue was in my mouth, dancing with mine. He placed his right leg between mine and immobilized my wrists above my head with one hand while the other began to go all over my body. He didn't beat about the bush and immediately started with my breasts, kneading them over my dress. Under his proficient thumb, my tits pricked up instantaneously. I was struggling to stay quiet as he was urgently stroking my thighs under my little dress. Soon, he reached my thin thong and lewdly growled in my mouth. He began to play with it but the underwear didn't resist more than two seconds, which extracted a moan from me.

At first, I was happy that he was wedging my arms, because I didn't really know how to please him. But this statement wasn't true anymore. As and when he was deepening his kiss and caresses, my instinct made me crave to touch him too. I tried to move my hands but he prevented me from doing so.  
>Instead, without warning, he introduced one finger in me and it got a whine out of my throat. The feeling was strange but astonishing; I was becoming aware of new organs in my body. It was like all my nerves were solicited at the same time, casting doubt on all my brain's landmarks. But most of all, it was absolutely awesome.<p>

He blurted a muffled groan out, which was scandalously erotic.

"My God, you're so narrow!" he murmured against my lips.

It was so stimulating and intense that I was wondering how much time I would still be able to support it. He was so skilled, kissing me while utilizing his finger in the best way. No doubt, he **perfectly** knew how to proceed. Who said men couldn't do two things at a time?  
>After several seconds of exquisite pleasure, he began to insert a second finger.<p>

Suddenly, he started back with a stifled curse and quickly removed his hand. My shaking legs, unable to support me on their own anymore, gave way beneath me. Fortunately, Christian reacted in less time than you need to say it.

"Wow!" he exclaimed while recapturing me in a flash.

He placed me on the edge of my bed and squatted in front of me. I had the impression to be five years old.

"There," he murmured soothingly. "I am sorry. I… huh… I didn't want to drop you, I just…" he began stuttering. (Yes, this is happening again!) "You're still a virgin…" he point-blank stated, disbelieving.

_C'est pas vrai!_ I brusquely came back to earth. How can he know it?! How did he… feel it? I mean, I hadn't anticipated tackling the subject before the hypothetic day when we would be about to do… **it**, which is **not** today.  
>Now I wasn't feeling good at all; I was ashamed and awkward. The last thing I wanted was suffering mockeries or even pity. I couldn't. Not anymore.<br>I blinked back tears nervously, avoiding his wondering look.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked.

What?! Why should I have told him? How was I supposed to know he would be able to discover it without going further? _Let me remind you that your hymen is a thin membrane which –without being ripped- allows the passage of… _For God's sake, SHUT UP!  
>At least, he didn't seem jeering and during a very short moment, it eased me. But I was suffocating, I had to move. I stood up abruptly and avoided Christian who, surprised by my spontaneity, almost lost his balance. I reached the door and held it open.<p>

"I'm sorry… Thank you for taking me back here. Please go now," I begged him.

He was slowly picking himself up, looking at me with a mix of incomprehension and trouble. The wrinkle reappeared on his forehead as he was drawing closer to me.

"Ana," he called me out to capture my attention. "Are you feeling guilty for being a virgin?"

No, no, no, I'm not! I'm not feeling guilty! I, I… I… I hate when he reads me like an open book.  
>I sighed. Why does he always need to interpret everything? To understand everything straightaway? It's past 3am!<p>

"I didn't know it was important…" I answered shyly. _Liar_.

"Ana, I was about to… I…" he stopped, shaking his head. "There's no way I'm not gonna deflow…" he continued, flabbergasted.

"Yea of course," I immediately cut him short. I didn't want to hear that. "I know you won't I know you don't want to I'm not expecting I just…" I debited in one go.

"**Anastasia**," he silenced me by placing his forefinger on my lips. "I am not going to deflower you **with my fingers**."

_Oh_. Which then means that he has the intention to take my virginity? I frowned at him, not sure to properly understand.  
>Without taking his eyes off me, he slowly closed the door.<p>

"Lie down on the bed," he gently told me, but his tone left little room for negotiation.

However, it didn't brake my opposition reflex.

"But I…" I began.

"I don't want your legs to let you down again," he interrupted me.

Although I was completely terrified, my need to obey won the day and I half-reluctantly half-blithely reached the aforementioned bed.  
>He joined me on the mattress and resumed the exploration of my scorching body.<p>

I couldn't believe that the famous Christian Grey was in **my** bed, glorifying **my** body. After a few minutes, I wasn't afraid anymore; I was confident. I didn't know what would happen after and actually, I didn't care since it was almost beyond my control. I had always said that I would 'make the boy wait' but now that I was confronted with such a situation, I suddenly became a sheep. Christian, as for him, wasn't the ravenous wolf he was ten minutes ago: he was the shepherd. Indeed, his gestures were softer; he was more attentive and caring. He was the Christian I met when I woke up in his room. There was still this fiery desire in his eyes, but they were also imprinted with kindness. _Mon Dieu, que j'aime aussi ce Christian…_  
>His mouth attacked my neck, –kissing me softly-, while his hands were titillating my nipples. This time, he let my arms free, so I touched him everywhere I could, taking care to avoid his painful eyebrow arch. I ran my fingers through his hair –sometimes pulling them- and then on his impressive shoulder blades. I automatically scratched them when he grazed my privates. He was fondling me like I was a tiny fragile birdy and it triggered a tingle down my spine.<br>His mouth found mine again and he slightly bit and then sucked up my lower lip as his hands brushed against my clitoris. It electrified my whole body which shook violently. My hips spontaneously rose to enter into contact with his stuck erection, encouraging him to intensify his caresses.  
>He broke our kiss and stood still, his grey eyes anchored in mine. His stare was intense; it was one of those Grey-certified looks that make me melt. I voluptuously bit my lower to exhort him to continue and it had an immediate effect on his right hand, which resumed its job with more fervor. In no time, I began to sweat under the effect of his insistent action on my sex organ. And he continued. His pupils were dilating as my excitement was growing up. And he continued. I was conscious of my vulnerability under his lubricious gaze, and it increased my lust tenfold. And he continued. More… And I was hot… A little more… And my heart began to race… A bit more… And I began to pant… Even more… More, <strong>more<strong>… And I imploded. _**OUI!**_  
>When the orgasm overwhelmed me, my back arched uncontrollably and I closed my eyes. It was like a truck full of pleasure had savagely struck me, making my stomach's insane butterflies blow into thousands of shining flakes. <em>Oh God<em>. It was so good. I think I can say it: all parts of me were in seventh heaven. (My reason, as for her, was desperately chasing away the vicious Mr. Idealization who was trying to poison my brain, taking advantage of the complete mess my mind currently was.)

After the last spasm had shaken me, Christian abruptly ceased touching me and it let me speechless, depriving my lungs of oxygen. I opened my eyes to find his beautiful face.  
>He was looking away, immobile with the jaw tensed. He was over me, leaning on his forearms which were on either side of my head so that I was in the perfect position to contemplate his wickedly magnificent profile; I could've admired him during hours without getting bored.<p>

"Christian…" I began. (I wanted to say something but suddenly forgot when the smell of his fragrance reached me.)

At the sound of my voice, he closed his eyes and clenched his fists. He seemed deeply torn whereas I couldn't even think anymore.

"That's enough for tonight," he whispered between his teeth.

He then jumped out of the bed, so speedily that my dazzled eyes didn't succeed in following.

_No, come back! Again, again, please!_ My inner nymphomaniac wanted more but my body was too weak to hold him back; I was exhausted and irrevocably shot up because of dopamine.  
>I thought he would leave running but he stopped after three steps, pinched his nose bridge and slowly turned around.<p>

"Have a good night," he cautiously leaned above me and kissed my forehead.

He silently left the room and I sighed in wellness.

That night, it was an absolute certainty: I was going to dream about Christian Grey. Christian Grey and his hands and his voice and his hair and his tongue and his beautiful eyes.

* * *

><p><strong>Did you enjoy it? Please feel free to let a lot reviews, it illuminates my days! :D<strong>

**See you soon for chapter 6 (restaurant!)…**  
><strong>Thanks for reading! xoxo<strong>


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